Delphi Poetry Anthology: The World's Greatest Poems (Delphi Poets Series Book 50)

by Homer

  Of the remnant needeth not to enquere.”

  What should I more say, but that this Millere

  He would his wordes for no man forbear,

  But told his churlish1 tale in his mannere; 1boorish, rude

  Me thinketh, that I shall rehearse it here.

  And therefore every gentle wight I pray,

  For Godde’s love to deem not that I say

  Of evil intent, but that I must rehearse

  Their tales all, be they better or worse,

  Or elles falsen1 some of my mattere. 1falsify

  And therefore whoso list it not to hear,

  Turn o’er the leaf, and choose another tale;

  For he shall find enough, both great and smale,

  Of storial1 thing that toucheth gentiless, 1historical, true

  And eke morality and holiness.

  Blame not me, if that ye choose amiss.

  The Miller is a churl, ye know well this,

  So was the Reeve, with many other mo’,

  And harlotry1 they tolde bothe two. 1ribald tales

  1Avise you1 now, and put me out of blame; 1be warned1

  And eke men should not make earnest of game1. 1jest, fun

  THE TALE.

  Whilom there was dwelling in Oxenford

  A riche gnof1, that 1guestes held to board1, 1miser 1took in boarders1

  And of his craft he was a carpenter.

  With him there was dwelling a poor scholer,

  Had learned art, but all his fantasy

  Was turned for to learn astrology.

  He coude1 a certain of conclusions 1knew

  To deeme1 by interrogations, 1determine

  If that men asked him in certain hours,

  When that men should have drought or elles show’rs:

  Or if men asked him what shoulde fall

  Of everything, I may not reckon all.

  This clerk was called Hendy1 Nicholas; 1gentle, handsome

  Of derne1 love he knew and of solace; 1secret, earnest

  And therewith he was sly and full privy,

  And like a maiden meek for to see.

  A chamber had he in that hostelry

  Alone, withouten any company,

  Full 1fetisly y-dight1 with herbes swoot1, 1neatly decorated1

  And he himself was sweet as is the root 1sweet

  Of liquorice, or any setewall1. 1valerian

  His Almagest, and bookes great and small,

  His astrolabe, belonging to his art,

  His augrim stones, layed fair apart

  On shelves couched1 at his bedde’s head, 1laid, set

  His press y-cover’d with a falding1 red. 1coarse cloth

  And all above there lay a gay psalt’ry

  On which he made at nightes melody,

  So sweetely, that all the chamber rang:

  And Angelus ad virginem he sang.

  And after that he sung the kinge’s note;

  Full often blessed was his merry throat.

  And thus this sweete clerk his time spent

  After 1his friendes finding and his rent.1 1Attending to his friends,

  and providing for the

  cost of his lodging1

  This carpenter had wedded new a wife,

  Which that he loved more than his life:

  Of eighteen year, I guess, she was of age.

  Jealous he was, and held her narr’w in cage,

  For she was wild and young, and he was old,

  And deemed himself belike1 a cuckold. 1perhaps

  He knew not Cato, for his wit was rude,

  That bade a man wed his similitude.

  Men shoulde wedden after their estate,

  For youth and eld1 are often at debate. 1age

  But since that he was fallen in the snare,

  He must endure (as other folk) his care.

  Fair was this younge wife, and therewithal

  As any weasel her body gent1 and small. 1slim, neat

  A seint1 she weared, barred all of silk, 1girdle

  A barm-cloth1 eke as white as morning milk 1apron

  Upon her lendes1, full of many a gore2. 1loins 2plait

  White was her smock1, and broider’d all before, 1robe or gown

  And eke behind, on her collar about

  Of coal-black silk, within and eke without.

  The tapes of her white volupere1 1head-kerchief

  Were of the same suit of her collere;

  Her fillet broad of silk, and set full high:

  And sickerly1 she had a likerous2 eye. 1certainly 2lascivious

  Full small y-pulled were her browes two,

  And they were bent1, and black as any sloe. 1arched

  She was well more 1blissful on to see1 1pleasant to look upon1

  Than is the newe perjenete1 tree; 1young pear-tree

  And softer than the wool is of a wether.

  And by her girdle hung a purse of leather,

  Tassel’d with silk, and 1pearled with latoun1. 1set with brass pearls1

  In all this world to seeken up and down

  There is no man so wise, that coude thenche1 1fancy, think of

  So gay a popelot1, or such a wench. 1puppet

  Full brighter was the shining of her hue,

  Than in the Tower the noble1 forged new. 1a gold coin

  But of her song, it was as loud and yern1, 1lively

  As any swallow chittering on a bern1. 1barn

  Thereto1 she coulde skip, and 1make a game1 1also 1romp1

  As any kid or calf following his dame.

  Her mouth was sweet as braket, or as methe1 1mead

  Or hoard of apples, laid in hay or heath.

  Wincing1 she was as is a jolly colt, 1skittish

  Long as a mast, and upright as a bolt.

  A brooch she bare upon her low collere,

  As broad as is the boss of a bucklere.

  Her shoon were laced on her legges high;

  She was a primerole,1 a piggesnie , 1primrose

  For any lord t’ have ligging1 in his bed, 1lying

  Or yet for any good yeoman to wed.

  Now, sir, and eft1 sir, so befell the case, 1again

  That on a day this Hendy Nicholas

  Fell with this younge wife to rage1 and play, 1toy, play the rogue

  While that her husband was at Oseney,

  As clerkes be full subtle and full quaint.

  And privily he caught her by the queint,1 1cunt

  And said; “Y-wis,1 but if I have my will, 1assuredly

  For 1derne love of thee, leman, I spill.”1 1for earnest love of thee

  And helde her fast by the haunche bones, my mistress, I perish1

  And saide “Leman, love me well at once,

  Or I will dien, all so God me save.”

  And she sprang as a colt doth in the trave:

  And with her head she writhed fast away,

  And said; “I will not kiss thee, by my fay1. 1faith

  Why let be,” quoth she, “let be, Nicholas,

  Or I will cry out harow and alas!

  Do away your handes, for your courtesy.”

  This Nicholas gan mercy for to cry,

  And spake so fair, and proffer’d him so fast,

  That she her love him granted at the last,

  And swore her oath by Saint Thomas of Kent,

  That she would be at his commandement,

  When that she may her leisure well espy.

  “My husband is so full of jealousy,

  That but1 ye waite well, and be privy, 1unless

  I wot right well I am but dead,” quoth she.

  “Ye muste be full derne1 as in this case.” 1secret

  “Nay, thereof care thee nought,” quoth Nicholas:

  “A clerk had 1litherly beset his while1, 1ill spent his time1

  1But if1 he could a carpenter beguile.” 1unless

  And thus they were accorded and y-sworn

  To wait a time, as I have said beforn.

  When Nicholas
had done thus every deal1, 1whit

  And thwacked her about the lendes1 well, 1loins

  He kiss’d her sweet, and taketh his psalt’ry

  And playeth fast, and maketh melody.

  Then fell it thus, that to the parish church,

  Of Christe’s owen workes for to wirch1, 1work

  This good wife went upon a holy day;

  Her forehead shone as bright as any day,

  So was it washen, when she left her werk.

  Now was there of that church a parish clerk,

  The which that was y-cleped Absolon.

  Curl’d was his hair, and as the gold it shone,

  And strutted1 as a fanne large and broad; 1stretched

  Full straight and even lay his jolly shode1. 1head of hair

  His rode1 was red, his eyen grey as goose, 1complexion

  With Paule’s windows carven on his shoes

  In hosen red he went full fetisly1. 1daintily, neatly

  Y-clad he was full small and properly,

  All in a kirtle1 of a light waget1; 1girdle 2sky blue

  Full fair and thicke be the pointes set,

  And thereupon he had a gay surplice,

  As white as is the blossom on the rise1. 1twig

  A merry child he was, so God me save;

  Well could he letten blood, and clip, and shave,

  And make a charter of land, and a quittance.

  In twenty manners could he trip and dance,

  After the school of Oxenforde tho1, 1then

  And with his legges caste to and fro;

  And playen songes on a small ribible1; 1fiddle

  Thereto he sung sometimes a loud quinible1 1treble

  And as well could he play on a gitern.1 1guitar

  In all the town was brewhouse nor tavern,

  That he not visited with his solas1, 1mirth, sport

  There as that any 1garnard tapstere1 was. 1licentious barmaid1

  But sooth to say he was somedeal squaimous1 1squeamish

  Of farting, and of speeche dangerous.

  This Absolon, that jolly was and gay,

  Went with a censer on the holy day,

  Censing1 the wives of the parish fast; 1burning incense for

  And many a lovely look he on them cast,

  And namely1 on this carpenter’s wife: 1especially

  To look on her him thought a merry life.

  She was so proper, and sweet, and likerous.

  I dare well say, if she had been a mouse,

  And he a cat, he would 1her hent anon1. 1have soon caught her1

  This parish clerk, this jolly Absolon,

  Hath in his hearte such a love-longing!

  That of no wife took he none offering;

  For courtesy he said he woulde none.

  The moon at night full clear and brighte shone,

  And Absolon his gitern hath y-taken,

  For paramours he thoughte for to waken,

  And forth he went, jolif1 and amorous, 1joyous

  Till he came to the carpentere’s house,

  A little after the cock had y-crow,

  And 1dressed him1 under a shot window , 1stationed himself.1

  That was upon the carpentere’s wall.

  He singeth in his voice gentle and small;

  “Now, dear lady, if thy will be,

  I pray that ye will rue1 on me;” 1take pity

  Full well accordant to his giterning.

  This carpenter awoke, and heard him sing,

  And spake unto his wife, and said anon,

  What Alison, hear’st thou not Absolon,

  That chanteth thus under our bower1 wall?” 1chamber

  And she answer’d her husband therewithal;

  “Yes, God wot, John, I hear him every deal.”

  This passeth forth; what will ye bet1 than well? 1better

  From day to day this jolly Absolon

  So wooeth her, that him is woebegone.

  He waketh all the night, and all the day,

  To comb his lockes broad, and make him gay.

  He wooeth her 1by means and by brocage1, 1by presents and by agents1

  And swore he woulde be her owen page.

  He singeth brokking1 as a nightingale. 1quavering

  He sent her piment , mead, and spiced ale,

  And wafers1 piping hot out of the glede2: 1cakes 2coals

  And, for she was of town, he proffer’d meed.

  For some folk will be wonnen for richess,

  And some for strokes, and some with gentiless.

  Sometimes, to show his lightness and mast’ry,

  He playeth Herod on a scaffold high.

  But what availeth him as in this case?

  So loveth she the Hendy Nicholas,

  That Absolon may 1blow the bucke’s horn1: 1”go whistle”1

  He had for all his labour but a scorn.

  And thus she maketh Absolon her ape,

  And all his earnest turneth to a jape1. 1jest

  Full sooth is this proverb, it is no lie;

  Men say right thus alway; the nighe sly

  Maketh oft time the far lief to be loth.

  For though that Absolon be wood1 or wroth 1mad

  Because that he far was from her sight,

  This nigh Nicholas stood still in his light.

  Now bear thee well, thou Hendy Nicholas,

  For Absolon may wail and sing “Alas!”

  And so befell, that on a Saturday

  This carpenter was gone to Oseney,

  And Hendy Nicholas and Alison

  Accorded were to this conclusion,

  That Nicholas shall 1shape him a wile1 1devise a stratagem1

  The silly jealous husband to beguile;

  And if so were the game went aright,

  She shoulde sleepen in his arms all night;

  For this was her desire and his also.

  And right anon, withoute wordes mo’,

  This Nicholas no longer would he tarry,

  But doth full soft unto his chamber carry

  Both meat and drinke for a day or tway.

  And to her husband bade her for to say,

  If that he asked after Nicholas,

  She shoulde say, “She wist1 not where he was; 1knew

  Of all the day she saw him not with eye;

  She trowed1 he was in some malady, 1believed

  For no cry that her maiden could him call

  He would answer, for nought that might befall.”

  Thus passed forth all thilke1 Saturday, 1that

  That Nicholas still in his chamber lay,

  And ate, and slept, and didde what him list

  Till Sunday, that1 the sunne went to rest. 1when

  This silly carpenter 1had great marvaill1 1wondered greatly1

  Of Nicholas, or what thing might him ail,

  And said; “I am adrad1, by Saint Thomas! 1afraid, in dread

  It standeth not aright with Nicholas:

  1God shielde1 that he died suddenly. 1heaven forbid!1

  This world is now full fickle sickerly1. 1certainly

  I saw to-day a corpse y-borne to chirch,

  That now on Monday last I saw him wirch1. 1work

  “Go up,” quod he unto his knave1, “anon; 1servant.

  Clepe1 at his door, or knocke with a stone: 1call

  Look how it is, and tell me boldely.”

  This knave went him up full sturdily,

  And, at the chamber door while that he stood,

  He cried and knocked as that he were wood:1 1mad

  “What how? what do ye, Master Nicholay?

  How may ye sleepen all the longe day?”

  But all for nought, he hearde not a word.

  An hole he found full low upon the board,

  Where as the cat was wont in for to creep,

  And at that hole he looked in full deep,

  And at the last he had of him a sight.

  This Nicholas sat ever gaping upright,

  As he had kyked1
on the newe moon. 1looked

  Adown he went, and told his master soon,

  In what array he saw this ilke1 man. 1same

  This carpenter to 1blissen him1 began, 1bless, cross himself1

  And said: “Now help us, Sainte Frideswide.

  A man wot1 little what shall him betide. 1knows

  This man is fall’n with his astronomy

  Into some woodness1 or some agony. 1madness

  I thought aye well how that it shoulde be.

  Men should know nought of Godde’s privity1. 1secrets

  Yea, blessed be alway a lewed1 man, 1unlearned

  That 1nought but only his believe can1. 1knows no more

  So far’d another clerk with astronomy: than his “credo.”1

  He walked in the fieldes for to 1pry

  Upon1 the starres, what there should befall, 1keep watch on1

  Till he was in a marle pit y-fall.

  He saw not that. But yet, by Saint Thomas!

  1Me rueth sore of1 Hendy Nicholas: 1I am very sorry for1

  He shall be 1rated of1 his studying, 1chidden for1

  If that I may, by Jesus, heaven’s king!

  Get me a staff, that I may underspore1 1lever up

  While that thou, Robin, heavest off the door:

  He shall out of his studying, as I guess.”

  And to the chamber door he gan him dress1 1apply himself.

  His knave was a strong carl for the nonce,

  And by the hasp he heav’d it off at once;

  Into the floor the door fell down anon.

  This Nicholas sat aye as still as stone,

  And ever he gap’d upward into the air.

  The carpenter ween’d1 he were in despair, 1thought

  And hent1 him by the shoulders mightily, 1caught

  And shook him hard, and cried spitously;1 1angrily

  “What, Nicholas? what how, man? look adown:

  Awake, and think on Christe’s passioun.

  I crouche thee from elves, and from wights1. 1witches

  Therewith the night-spell said he anon rights1, 1properly

  On the four halves1 of the house about, 1corners

  And on the threshold of the door without.

  “Lord Jesus Christ, and Sainte Benedight,

  Blesse this house from every wicked wight,

  From the night mare, the white Pater-noster;

  Where wonnest1 thou now, Sainte Peter’s sister?” 1dwellest

  And at the last this Hendy Nicholas

  Gan for to sigh full sore, and said; “Alas!

  Shall all time world be lost eftsoones1 now?” 1forthwith

  This carpenter answer’d; “What sayest thou?

  What? think on God, as we do, men that swink.1” 1labour

  This Nicholas answer’d; “Fetch me a drink;