The Canterbury Tales, and Other Poems
Chapter 13
“Now, John,” quoth Nicholas, “I will not lie, I have y-found in my astrology, As I have looked in the moone bright, That now on Monday next, at quarter night, Shall fall a rain, and that so wild and wood*, *mad That never half so great was Noe’s flood. This world,” he said, “in less than half an hour Shall all be dreint*, so hideous is the shower: *drowned Thus shall mankinde drench*, and lose their life.” *drown This carpenter answer’d; “Alas, my wife! And shall she drench? alas, mine Alisoun!” For sorrow of this he fell almost adown, And said; “Is there no remedy in this case?” “Why, yes, for God,” quoth Hendy Nicholas; “If thou wilt worken after *lore and rede*; *learning and advice* Thou may’st not worken after thine own head. For thus saith Solomon, that was full true: Work all by counsel, and thou shalt not rue*. *repent And if thou worke wilt by good counseil, I undertake, withoute mast or sail, Yet shall I save her, and thee, and me. Hast thou not heard how saved was Noe, When that our Lord had warned him beforn, That all the world with water *should be lorn*?” *should perish* “Yes,” quoth this carpenter,” *full yore ago*.” *long since* “Hast thou not heard,” quoth Nicholas, “also The sorrow of Noe, with his fellowship, That he had ere he got his wife to ship?<30> *Him had been lever, I dare well undertake, At thilke time, than all his wethers black, That she had had a ship herself alone.* *see note <31> And therefore know’st thou what is best to be done? This asketh haste, and of an hasty thing Men may not preach or make tarrying. Anon go get us fast into this inn* *house A kneading trough, or else a kemelin*, *brewing-tub For each of us; but look that they be large, In whiche we may swim* as in a barge: *float And have therein vitaille suffisant But for one day; fie on the remenant; The water shall aslake* and go away *slacken, abate Aboute prime* upon the nexte day. *early morning But Robin may not know of this, thy knave*, *servant Nor eke thy maiden Gill I may not save: Ask me not why: for though thou aske me I will not telle Godde’s privity. Sufficeth thee, *but if thy wit be mad*, *unless thou be To have as great a grace as Noe had; out of thy wits* Thy wife shall I well saven out of doubt. Go now thy way, and speed thee hereabout. But when thou hast for her, and thee, and me, Y-gotten us these kneading tubbes three, Then shalt thou hang them in the roof full high, So that no man our purveyance* espy: *foresight, providence And when thou hast done thus as I have said, And hast our vitaille fair in them y-laid, And eke an axe to smite the cord in two When that the water comes, that we may go, And break an hole on high upon the gable Into the garden-ward, over the stable, That we may freely passe forth our way, When that the greate shower is gone away. Then shalt thou swim as merry, I undertake, As doth the white duck after her drake: Then will I clepe,* ‘How, Alison? How, John? *call Be merry: for the flood will pass anon.’ And thou wilt say, ‘Hail, Master Nicholay, Good-morrow, I see thee well, for it is day.’ And then shall we be lordes all our life Of all the world, as Noe and his wife. But of one thing I warne thee full right, Be well advised, on that ilke* night, *same When we be enter’d into shippe’s board, That none of us not speak a single word, Nor clepe nor cry, but be in his prayere, For that is Godde’s owen heste* dear. *command Thy wife and thou must hangen far atween*, *asunder For that betwixte you shall be no sin, No more in looking than there shall in deed. This ordinance is said: go, God thee speed To-morrow night, when men be all asleep, Into our kneading tubbes will we creep, And sitte there, abiding Godde’s grace. Go now thy way, I have no longer space To make of this no longer sermoning: Men say thus: Send the wise, and say nothing: Thou art so wise, it needeth thee nought teach. Go, save our lives, and that I thee beseech.”
This silly carpenter went forth his way, Full oft he said, “Alas! and Well-a-day!,’ And to his wife he told his privity, And she was ware, and better knew than he What all this *quainte cast was for to say*. *strange contrivance But natheless she fear’d as she would dey, meant* And said: “Alas! go forth thy way anon. Help us to scape, or we be dead each one. I am thy true and very wedded wife; Go, deare spouse, and help to save our life.” Lo, what a great thing is affection! Men may die of imagination, So deeply may impression be take. This silly carpenter begins to quake: He thinketh verily that he may see This newe flood come weltering as the sea To drenchen* Alison, his honey dear. *drown He weepeth, waileth, maketh *sorry cheer*; *dismal countenance* He sigheth, with full many a sorry sough.* *groan He go’th, and getteth him a kneading trough, And after that a tub, and a kemelin, And privily he sent them to his inn: And hung them in the roof full privily. With his own hand then made he ladders three, To climbe by *the ranges and the stalks* *the rungs and the uprights* Unto the tubbes hanging in the balks*; *beams And victualed them, kemelin, trough, and tub, With bread and cheese, and good ale in a jub*, *jug Sufficing right enough as for a day. But ere that he had made all this array, He sent his knave*, and eke his wench** also, *servant **maid Upon his need* to London for to go. *business And on the Monday, when it drew to night, He shut his door withoute candle light, And dressed* every thing as it should be. *prepared And shortly up they climbed all the three. They satte stille well *a furlong way*. *the time it would take “Now, Pater noster, clum,”<32> said Nicholay, to walk a furlong* And “clum,” quoth John; and “clum,” said Alison: This carpenter said his devotion, And still he sat and bidded his prayere, Awaking on the rain, if he it hear. The deade sleep, for weary business, Fell on this carpenter, right as I guess, About the curfew-time,<33> or little more, For *travail of his ghost* he groaned sore, *anguish of spirit* *And eft he routed, for his head mislay.* *and then he snored, Adown the ladder stalked Nicholay; for his head lay awry* And Alison full soft adown she sped. Withoute wordes more they went to bed, *There as* the carpenter was wont to lie: *where* There was the revel, and the melody. And thus lay Alison and Nicholas, In business of mirth and in solace, Until the bell of laudes* gan to ring, *morning service, at 3.a.m. And friars in the chancel went to sing.
This parish clerk, this amorous Absolon, That is for love alway so woebegone, Upon the Monday was at Oseney With company, him to disport and play; And asked upon cas* a cloisterer** *occasion **monk Full privily after John the carpenter; And he drew him apart out of the church, And said, “I n’ot;* I saw him not here wirch** *know not **work Since Saturday; I trow that he be went For timber, where our abbot hath him sent. And dwellen at the Grange a day or two: For he is wont for timber for to go, Or else he is at his own house certain. Where that he be, I cannot *soothly sayn.*” *say certainly* This Absolon full jolly was and light, And thought, “Now is the time to wake all night, For sickerly* I saw him not stirring *certainly About his door, since day began to spring. So may I thrive, but I shall at cock crow Full privily go knock at his window, That stands full low upon his bower* wall: *chamber To Alison then will I tellen all My love-longing; for I shall not miss That at the leaste way I shall her kiss. Some manner comfort shall I have, parfay*, *by my faith My mouth hath itched all this livelong day: That is a sign of kissing at the least. All night I mette* eke I was at a feast. *dreamt Therefore I will go sleep an hour or tway, And all the night then will I wake and play.” When that the first cock crowed had, anon Up rose this jolly lover Absolon, And him arrayed gay, *at point devise.* *with exact care* But first he chewed grains<34> and liquorice, To smelle sweet, ere he had combed his hair. Under his tongue a true love <35> he bare, For thereby thought he to be gracious.
Then came he to the carpentere’s house, And still he stood under the shot window; Unto his breast it raught*, it was so low; *reached And soft he coughed with a semisoun’.* *low tone “What do ye, honeycomb, sweet Alisoun? My faire bird, my sweet cinamome*, *cinnamon, sweet spice Awaken, leman* mine, and speak to me. *mistress Full little thinke ye upon my woe, That for your love I sweat *there as* I go. *wherever No wonder is that I do swelt* and sweat. *faint I mourn as doth a lamb after the teat Y-wis*, leman, I have such love-longing, *certainly That like a turtle* true is my mourning. *turtle-dove I may not eat, no more than a maid.” “Go from the window, thou jack fool,” she said: “As help me God, it will not be, ‘come ba* me.’ *kiss I love another, else I were to blame”, Well better than thee, by Jesus, Absolon. Go forth thy way, or I will cast a stone; And let me sleep; *a twenty devil way*. *twenty devils take ye!* “Alas!” quoth Absolon, “and well away! That true love ever was so ill beset: Then kiss me, since that it may be no bet*, *better For Jesus’ love, and for the love of me.” “Wilt thou then go thy way therewith?” , quoth she. “Yea, certes, leman,” quoth this Absolon. “Then make thee ready,” quoth she, “I come anon.” [And unto Nicholas she said *full still*: *in a low voice* “Now peace, and thou shalt laugh anon thy fill.”]<36> This Absolon down set him on his knees, And said; “I am a lord at all degrees: For after this I hope there cometh more; Leman, thy grace, and, sweete bird, thine ore.*” *favour The window she undid, and that in haste. “Have done,” quoth she, “come off, and speed thee fast, Lest that our neighebours should thee espy.” Then Absolon gan wipe his mouth full dry. Dark was the night as pitch or as the coal, And at the window she put out her hole, And Absolon him fell ne bet ne werse, But with his mouth he kiss’d her naked erse Full savourly. When he was ware of this, Aback he start, and thought it was amiss; For well he wist a woman hath no beard. He felt a thing all rough, and long y-hair’d, And saide; “Fy, alas! what have I do?” “Te he!” quoth she, and clapt the window to; And Absolon went forth at sorry pace. “A beard, a beard,” said Hendy Nicholas; “By God’s corpus, this game went fair and well.” This silly Absolon heard every deal*, *word And on his lip he gan for anger bite; And to himself he said, “I shall thee quite*. *requite, be even with Who rubbeth now, who frotteth* now his lips *rubs With dust, with sand, with straw, with cloth, with chips, But Absolon? that saith full oft, “Alas! My soul betake I unto Sathanas, But me were lever* than all this town,” quoth he *rather I this despite awroken* for to be. *revenged Alas! alas! that I have been y-blent*.” *deceived His hote love is cold, and all y-quent.* *quenched For from that time that he had kiss’d her erse, Of paramours he *sette not a kers,* *cared not a rush* For he was healed of his malady; Full often paramours he gan defy, And weep as doth a child that hath been beat. A softe pace he went over the street Unto a smith, men callen Dan* Gerveis, *master That in his forge smithed plough-harness; He sharped share and culter busily. This Absolon knocked all easily, And said; “Undo, Gerveis, and that anon.” “What, who art thou?” “It is I, Absolon.” “What? Absolon, what? Christe’s sweete tree*, *cross Why rise so rath*? hey! Benedicite, *early What aileth you? some gay girl,<37> God it wote, Hath brought you thus upon the viretote:<38> By Saint Neot, ye wot well what I mean.” This Absolon he raughte* not a bean *recked, cared Of all his play; no word again he gaf*, *spoke For he had more tow on his distaff<39> Than Gerveis knew, and saide; “Friend so dear, That hote culter in the chimney here Lend it to me, I have therewith to don*: *do I will it bring again to thee full soon.” Gerveis answered; “Certes, were it gold, Or in a poke* nobles all untold, *purse Thou shouldst it have, as I am a true smith. Hey! Christe’s foot, what will ye do therewith?” “Thereof,” quoth Absolon, “be as be may; I shall well tell it thee another day:” And caught the culter by the colde stele*. *handle Full soft out at the door he gan to steal, And went unto the carpentere’s wall He coughed first, and knocked therewithal Upon the window, light as he did ere*. *before <40> This Alison answered; “Who is there That knocketh so? I warrant him a thief.” “Nay, nay,” quoth he, “God wot, my sweete lefe*, *love I am thine Absolon, my own darling. Of gold,” quoth he, “I have thee brought a ring, My mother gave it me, so God me save! Full fine it is, and thereto well y-grave*: *engraved This will I give to thee, if thou me kiss.” Now Nicholas was risen up to piss, And thought he would *amenden all the jape*; *improve the joke* He shoulde kiss his erse ere that he scape: And up the window did he hastily, And out his erse he put full privily Over the buttock, to the haunche bone. And therewith spake this clerk, this Absolon, “Speak, sweete bird, I know not where thou art.” This Nicholas anon let fly a fart, As great as it had been a thunder dent*; *peal, clap That with the stroke he was well nigh y-blent*; *blinded But he was ready with his iron hot, And Nicholas amid the erse he smote. Off went the skin an handbreadth all about. The hote culter burned so his tout*, *breech That for the smart he weened* he would die; *thought As he were wood*, for woe he gan to cry, *mad “Help! water, water, help for Godde’s heart!”
This carpenter out of his slumber start, And heard one cry “Water,” as he were wood*, *mad And thought, “Alas! now cometh Noe’s flood.” He sat him up withoute wordes mo’ And with his axe he smote the cord in two; And down went all; he found neither to sell Nor bread nor ale, till he came to the sell*, *threshold <41> Upon the floor, and there in swoon he lay. Up started Alison and Nicholay, And cried out an “harow!” <15> in the street. The neighbours alle, bothe small and great In ranne, for to gauren* on this man, *stare That yet in swoone lay, both pale and wan: For with the fall he broken had his arm. But stand he must unto his owen harm, For when he spake, he was anon borne down With Hendy Nicholas and Alisoun. They told to every man that he was wood*; *mad He was aghaste* so of Noe’s flood, *afraid Through phantasy, that of his vanity He had y-bought him kneading-tubbes three, And had them hanged in the roof above; And that he prayed them for Godde’s love To sitten in the roof for company. The folk gan laughen at his phantasy. Into the roof they kyken* and they gape, *peep, look. And turned all his harm into a jape*. *jest For whatsoe’er this carpenter answer’d, It was for nought, no man his reason heard. With oathes great he was so sworn adown, That he was holden wood in all the town. For every clerk anon right held with other; They said, “The man was wood, my leve* brother;” *dear And every wight gan laughen at his strife. Thus swived* was the carpentere’s wife, *enjoyed For all his keeping* and his jealousy; *care And Absolon hath kiss’d her nether eye; And Nicholas is scalded in the tout. This tale is done, and God save all the rout*. *company
Notes to the Miller’s Tale
1. Almagest: The book of Ptolemy the astronomer, which formed the canon of astrological science in the middle ages.
2. Astrolabe: “Astrelagour,” “astrelabore”; a mathematical instrument for taking the altitude of the sun or stars.
3. “Augrim” is a corruption of algorithm, the Arabian term for numeration; “augrim stones,” therefore were probably marked with numerals, and used as counters.
4. Angelus ad virginem: The Angel’s salutation to Mary; Luke i. 28. It was the “Ave Maria” of the Catholic Church service.
5. Cato: Though Chaucer may have referred to the famous Censor, more probably the reference is merely to the “Moral Distichs,” which go under his name, though written after his time; and in a supplement to which the quoted passage may be found.
6. Barm-cloth: apron; from Anglo-Saxon “barme,” bosom or lap.
7. Volupere: Head-gear, kerchief; from French, “envelopper,” to wrap up.
8. Popelet: Puppet; but chiefly; young wench.
9. Noble: nobles were gold coins of especial purity and brightness; “Ex auro nobilissimi, unde nobilis vocatus,” (made from the noblest (purest) gold, and therefore called nobles) says Vossius.
10. Yern: Shrill, lively; German, “gern,” willingly, cheerfully.
11. Braket: bragget, a sweet drink made of honey, spices, &c. In some parts of the country, a drink made from honeycomb, after the honey is extracted, is still called “bragwort.”
12. Piggesnie: a fond term, like “my duck;” from Anglo-Saxon, “piga,” a young maid; but Tyrwhitt associates it with the Latin, “ocellus,” little eye, a fondling term, and suggests that the “pigs- eye,” which is very small, was applied in the same sense. Davenport and Butler both use the word pigsnie, the first for “darling,” the second literally for “eye;” and Bishop Gardner, “On True Obedience,” in his address to the reader, says: “How softly she was wont to chirpe him under the chin, and kiss him; how prettily she could talk to him (how doth my sweet heart, what saith now pig’s-eye).”
13. Oseney: A once well-known abbey near Oxford.
14. Trave: travis; a frame in which unruly horses were shod.
15. Harow and Alas: Haro! was an old Norman cry for redress or aid. The “Clameur de Haro” was lately raised, under peculiar circumstances, as the prelude to a legal protest, in Jersey.
16. His shoes were ornamented like the windows of St. Paul’s, especially like the old rose-window.
17. Rise: Twig, bush; German, “Reis,” a twig; “Reisig,” a copse.
18. Chaucer satirises the dancing of Oxford as he did the French of Stratford at Bow.
19. Shot window: A projecting or bow window, whence it was possible shoot at any one approaching the door.
20. Piment: A drink made with wine, honey, and spices.
21. Because she was town-bred, he offered wealth, or money reward, for her love.
22. Parish-clerks, like Absolon, had leading parts in the mysteries or religious plays; Herod was one of these parts, which may have been an object of competition among the amateurs of the period.
23 .”The nighe sly maketh oft time the far lief to be loth”: a proverb; the cunning one near at hand oft makes the loving one afar off to be odious.
24. Kyked: Looked; “keek” is still used in some parts in the sense of “peep.”
25. Saint Frideswide was the patroness of a considerable priory at Oxford, and held there in high repute.
26. Plato, in his “Theatetus,” tells this story of Thales; but it has since appeared in many other forms.
27. Crouche: protect by signing the sign of the cross.
28. Forlore: lost; german, “verloren.”
29. Him that harried Hell: Christ who wasted or subdued hell: in the middle ages, some very active exploits against the prince of darkness and his powers were ascribed by the monkish tale- tellers to the saviour after he had “descended into hell.”
30. According to the old mysteries, Noah’s wife refused to come into the ark, and bade her husband row forth and get him a new wife, because he was leaving her gossips in the town to drown. Shem and his brothers got her shipped by main force; and Noah, coming forward to welcome her, was greeted with a box on the ear.
31. “Him had been lever, I dare well undertake, At thilke time, than all his wethers black, That she had had a ship herself alone.” i.e. “At that time he would have given all his black wethers, if she had had an ark to herself.”
32. “Clum,” like “mum,” a note of silence; but otherwise explained as the humming sound made in repeating prayers; from the Anglo-Saxon, “clumian,” to mutter, speak in an under- tone, keep silence.
33. Curfew-time: Eight in the evening, when, by the law of William the Conqueror, all people were, on ringing of a bell, to extinguish fire and candle, and go to rest; hence the word curfew, from French, “couvre-feu,” cover-fire.
34. Absolon chewed grains: these were grains of Paris, or Paradise; a favourite spice.
35. Under his tongue a true love he bare: some sweet herb; another reading, however, is “a true love-knot,” which may have been of the nature of a charm.
36. The two lines within brackets are not in most of the editions: they are taken from Urry; whether he supplied them or not, they serve the purpose of a necessary explanation.
37. Gay girl: As applied to a young woman of light manners, this euphemistic phrase has enjoyed a wonderful vitality.
38. Viretote: Urry reads “meritote,” and explains it from Spelman as a game in which children made themselves giddy by whirling on ropes. In French, “virer” means to turn; and the explanation may, therefore, suit either reading. In modern slang parlance, Gerveis would probably have said, “on the rampage,” or “on the swing” — not very far from Spelman’s rendering.
39. He had more tow on his distaff: a proverbial saying: he was playing a deeper game, had more serious business on hand.
40. Ere: before; German, “eher.”
41. Sell: sill of the door, threshold; French, “seuil,” Latin, “solum,” the ground.
THE REEVE’S TALE.
THE PROLOGUE.