Chapter 15

This jolly life have these two clerkes had, Till that the thirde cock began to sing. Alein wax’d weary in the morrowing, For he had swonken* all the longe night, *laboured And saide; “Farewell, Malkin, my sweet wight. The day is come, I may no longer bide, But evermore, where so I go or ride, I is thine owen clerk, so have I hele.*” *health “Now, deare leman*,” quoth she, “go, fare wele: *sweetheart But ere thou go, one thing I will thee tell. When that thou wendest homeward by the mill, Right at the entry of the door behind Thou shalt a cake of half a bushel find, That was y-maked of thine owen meal, Which that I help’d my father for to steal. And goode leman, God thee save and keep.” And with that word she gan almost to weep. Alein uprose and thought, “Ere the day daw I will go creepen in by my fellaw:” And found the cradle with his hand anon. “By God!” thought he, “all wrong I have misgone: My head is *totty of my swink* to-night, *giddy from my labour* That maketh me that I go not aright. I wot well by the cradle I have misgo’; Here lie the miller and his wife also.” And forth he went a twenty devil way Unto the bed, there as the miller lay. He ween’d* t’ have creeped by his fellow John, *thought And by the miller in he crept anon, And caught him by the neck, and gan him shake, And said; “Thou John, thou swines-head, awake For Christes soul, and hear a noble game! For by that lord that called is Saint Jame, As I have thries in this shorte night Swived the miller’s daughter bolt-upright, While thou hast as a coward lain aghast*.” *afraid “Thou false harlot,” quoth the miller, “hast? Ah, false traitor, false clerk,” quoth he, “Thou shalt be dead, by Godde’s dignity, Who durste be so bold to disparage* *disgrace My daughter, that is come of such lineage?” And by the throate-ball* he caught Alein, *Adam’s apple And he him hent* dispiteously** again, *seized **angrily And on the nose he smote him with his fist; Down ran the bloody stream upon his breast: And in the floor with nose and mouth all broke They wallow, as do two pigs in a poke. And up they go, and down again anon, Till that the miller spurned* on a stone, *stumbled And down he backward fell upon his wife, That wiste nothing of this nice strife: For she was fall’n asleep a little wight* *while With John the clerk, that waked had all night: And with the fall out of her sleep she braid*. *woke “Help, holy cross of Bromeholm,” <26> she said; “In manus tuas! <27> Lord, to thee I call. Awake, Simon, the fiend is on me fall; Mine heart is broken; help; I am but dead: There li’th one on my womb and on mine head. Help, Simkin, for these false clerks do fight” This John start up as fast as e’er he might, And groped by the walles to and fro To find a staff; and she start up also, And knew the estres* better than this John, *apartment And by the wall she took a staff anon: And saw a little shimmering of a light, For at an hole in shone the moone bright, And by that light she saw them both the two, But sickerly* she wist not who was who, *certainly But as she saw a white thing in her eye. And when she gan this white thing espy, She ween’d* the clerk had wear’d a volupere**; *supposed **night-cap And with the staff she drew aye nere* and nere*, *nearer And ween’d to have hit this Alein at the full, And smote the miller on the pilled* skull; *bald That down he went, and cried,” Harow! I die.” These clerkes beat him well, and let him lie, And greithen* them, and take their horse anon, *make ready, dress And eke their meal, and on their way they gon: And at the mill door eke they took their cake Of half a bushel flour, full well y-bake.

Thus is the proude miller well y-beat, And hath y-lost the grinding of the wheat; And payed for the supper *every deal* *every bit Of Alein and of John, that beat him well; His wife is swived, and his daughter als*; *also Lo, such it is a miller to be false. And therefore this proverb is said full sooth, “*Him thar not winnen well* that evil do’th, *he deserves not to gain* A guiler shall himself beguiled be:” And God that sitteth high in majesty Save all this Company, both great and smale. Thus have I quit* the Miller in my tale. *made myself quits with

Notes to the Reeve’s Tale

1. The incidents of this tale were much relished in the Middle Ages, and are found under various forms. Boccaccio has told them in the ninth day of his “Decameron”.

2. Camuse: flat; French “camuse”, snub-nosed.

3. Gite: gown or coat; French “jupe.”

4. Soler Hall: the hall or college at Cambridge with the gallery or upper storey; supposed to have been Clare Hall. (Transcribers note: later commentators identify it with King’s Hall, now merged with Trinity College)

5. Manciple: steward; provisioner of the hall. See also note 47 to the prologue to the Tales.

6. Testif: headstrong, wild-brained; French, “entete.”

7. Strother: Tyrwhitt points to Anstruther, in Fife: Mr Wright to the Vale of Langstroth, in the West Riding of Yorkshire. Chaucer has given the scholars a dialect that may have belonged to either district, although it more immediately suggests the more northern of the two. (Transcribers note: later commentators have identified it with a now vanished village near Kirknewton in Northumberland. There was a well-known Alein of Strother in Chaucer’s lifetime.)

8. Wanges: grinders, cheek-teeth; Anglo-Saxon, “Wang,” the cheek; German, “Wange.”

9. See note 1 to the Prologue to the Reeves Tale

10. In the “Cento Novelle Antiche,” the story is told of a mule, which pretends that his name is written on the bottom of his hind foot. The wolf attempts to read it, the mule kills him with a kick in the forehead; and the fox, looking on, remarks that “every man of letters is not wise.” A similar story is told in “Reynard the Fox.”

11. Levesell: an arbour; Anglo-Saxon, “lefe-setl,” leafy seat.

12. Noth: business; German, “Noth,” necessity.

13. Bathe: both; Scottice, “baith.”

14. Capel: horse; Gaelic, “capall;” French, “cheval;” Italian, “cavallo,” from Latin, “caballus.”

15. Make a clerkes beard: cheat a scholar; French, “faire la barbe;” and Boccaccio uses the proverb in the same sense.

16. “Gar” is Scotch for “cause;” some editions read, however, “get us some”.

17. Chalons: blankets, coverlets, made at Chalons in France.

18. Crock: pitcher, cruse; Anglo-Saxon, “crocca;” German, “krug;” hence “crockery.”

19. Dwale: night-shade, Solanum somniferum, given to cause sleep.

20. Burdoun: bass; “burden” of a song. It originally means the drone of a bagpipe; French, “bourdon.”

21. Compline: even-song in the church service; chorus.

22. Ferly: strange. In Scotland, a “ferlie” is an unwonted or remarkable sight.

23. A furlong way: As long as it might take to walk a furlong.

24. Cockenay: a term of contempt, probably borrowed from the kitchen; a cook, in base Latin, being termed “coquinarius.” compare French “coquin,” rascal.

25. Unhardy is unsely: the cowardly is unlucky; “nothing venture, nothing have;” German, “unselig,” unhappy.

26. Holy cross of Bromeholm: A common adjuration at that time; the cross or rood of the priory of Bromholm, in Norfolk, was said to contain part of the real cross and therefore held in high esteem.

27. In manus tuas: Latin, “in your hands”.

THE COOK’S TALE.

THE PROLOGUE.

THE Cook of London, while the Reeve thus spake, For joy he laugh’d and clapp’d him on the back: “Aha!” quoth he, “for Christes passion, This Miller had a sharp conclusion, Upon this argument of herbergage.* *lodging Well saide Solomon in his language, Bring thou not every man into thine house, For harbouring by night is perilous. *Well ought a man avised for to be* *a man should take good heed* Whom that he brought into his privity. I pray to God to give me sorrow and care If ever, since I highte* Hodge of Ware, *was called Heard I a miller better *set a-work*; *handled He had a jape* of malice in the derk. *trick But God forbid that we should stinte* here, *stop And therefore if ye will vouchsafe to hear A tale of me, that am a poore man, I will you tell as well as e’er I can A little jape that fell in our city.”

Our Host answer’d and said; “I grant it thee. Roger, tell on; and look that it be good, For many a pasty hast thou letten blood, And many a Jack of Dover<1> hast thou sold, That had been twice hot and twice cold. Of many a pilgrim hast thou Christe’s curse, For of thy parsley yet fare they the worse. That they have eaten in thy stubble goose: For in thy shop doth many a fly go loose. Now tell on, gentle Roger, by thy name, But yet I pray thee be not *wroth for game*; *angry with my jesting* A man may say full sooth in game and play.” “Thou sayst full sooth,” quoth Roger, “by my fay; But sooth play quad play,<2> as the Fleming saith, And therefore, Harry Bailly, by thy faith, Be thou not wroth, else we departe* here, *part company Though that my tale be of an hostelere.* *innkeeper But natheless, I will not tell it yet, But ere we part, y-wis* thou shalt be quit.”<3> *assuredly And therewithal he laugh’d and made cheer,<4> And told his tale, as ye shall after hear.

Notes to the Prologue to the Cook’s Tale

1. Jack of Dover: an article of cookery. (Transcriber’s note: suggested by some commentators to be a kind of pie, and by others to be a fish)

2. Sooth play quad play: true jest is no jest.

3. It may be remembered that each pilgrim was bound to tell two stories; one on the way to Canterbury, the other returning.

4. Made cheer: French, “fit bonne mine;” put on a pleasant countenance.

THE TALE.

A prentice whilom dwelt in our city, And of a craft of victuallers was he: Galliard* he was, as goldfinch in the shaw**, *lively **grove Brown as a berry, a proper short fellaw: With lockes black, combed full fetisly.* *daintily And dance he could so well and jollily, That he was called Perkin Revellour. He was as full of love and paramour, As is the honeycomb of honey sweet; Well was the wenche that with him might meet. At every bridal would he sing and hop; He better lov’d the tavern than the shop. For when there any riding was in Cheap,<1> Out of the shoppe thither would he leap, And, till that he had all the sight y-seen, And danced well, he would not come again; And gather’d him a meinie* of his sort, *company of fellows To hop and sing, and make such disport: And there they *sette steven* for to meet *made appointment* To playen at the dice in such a street. For in the towne was there no prentice That fairer coulde cast a pair of dice Than Perkin could; and thereto *he was free *he spent money liberally Of his dispence, in place of privity.* where he would not be seen* That found his master well in his chaffare,* *merchandise For oftentime he found his box full bare. For, soothely, a prentice revellour, That haunteth dice, riot, and paramour, His master shall it in his shop abie*, *suffer for All* have he no part of the minstrelsy. *although For theft and riot they be convertible, All can they play on *gitern or ribible.* *guitar or rebeck* Revel and truth, as in a low degree, They be full wroth* all day, as men may see. *at variance

This jolly prentice with his master bode, Till he was nigh out of his prenticehood, All were he snubbed* both early and late, *rebuked And sometimes led with revel to Newgate. But at the last his master him bethought, Upon a day when he his paper<2> sought, Of a proverb, that saith this same word; Better is rotten apple out of hoard, Than that it should rot all the remenant: So fares it by a riotous servant; It is well lesse harm to let him pace*, *pass, go Than he shend* all the servants in the place. *corrupt Therefore his master gave him a quittance, And bade him go, with sorrow and mischance. And thus this jolly prentice had his leve*: *desire Now let him riot all the night, or leave*. *refrain And, for there is no thief without a louke,<3> That helpeth him to wasten and to souk* *spend Of that he bribe* can, or borrow may, *steal Anon he sent his bed and his array Unto a compere* of his owen sort, *comrade That loved dice, and riot, and disport; And had a wife, that held *for countenance* *for appearances* A shop, and swived* for her sustenance. *prostituted herself . . . . . . . <4>

Notes to the Cook’s Tale

1. Cheapside, where jousts were sometimes held, and which was the great scene of city revels and processions.

2. His paper: his certificate of completion of his apprenticeship.

3. Louke: The precise meaning of the word is unknown, but it is doubtless included in the cant term “pal”.

4. The Cook’s Tale is unfinished in all the manuscripts; but in some, of minor authority, the Cook is made to break off his tale, because “it is so foul,” and to tell the story of Gamelyn, on which Shakespeare’s “As You Like It” is founded. The story is not Chaucer’s, and is different in metre, and inferior in composition to the Tales. It is supposed that Chaucer expunged the Cook’s Tale for the same reason that made him on his death- bed lament that he had written so much “ribaldry.”

THE MAN OF LAW’S TALE.

THE PROLOGUE.

Our Hoste saw well that the brighte sun Th’ arc of his artificial day had run The fourthe part, and half an houre more; And, though he were not deep expert in lore, He wist it was the eight-and-twenty day Of April, that is messenger to May; And saw well that the shadow of every tree Was in its length of the same quantity That was the body erect that caused it; And therefore by the shadow he took his wit*, *knowledge That Phoebus, which that shone so clear and bright, Degrees was five-and-forty clomb on height; And for that day, as in that latitude, It was ten of the clock, he gan conclude; And suddenly he plight* his horse about. *pulled <1>

“Lordings,” quoth he, “I warn you all this rout*, *company The fourthe partie of this day is gone. Now for the love of God and of Saint John Lose no time, as farforth as ye may. Lordings, the time wasteth night and day, And steals from us, what privily sleeping, And what through negligence in our waking, As doth the stream, that turneth never again, Descending from the mountain to the plain. Well might Senec, and many a philosopher, Bewaile time more than gold in coffer. For loss of chattels may recover’d be, But loss of time shendeth* us, quoth he. *destroys

It will not come again, withoute dread,* No more than will Malkin’s maidenhead,<2> When she hath lost it in her wantonness. Let us not moulde thus in idleness. “Sir Man of Law,” quoth he, “so have ye bliss, Tell us a tale anon, as forword* is. *the bargain Ye be submitted through your free assent To stand in this case at my judgement. Acquit you now, and *holde your behest*; *keep your promise* Then have ye done your devoir* at the least.” *duty “Hoste,” quoth he, “de par dieux jeo asente; <3> To breake forword is not mine intent. Behest is debt, and I would hold it fain, All my behest; I can no better sayn. For such law as a man gives another wight, He should himselfe usen it by right. Thus will our text: but natheless certain I can right now no thrifty* tale sayn, *worthy But Chaucer (though he *can but lewedly* *knows but imperfectly* On metres and on rhyming craftily) Hath said them, in such English as he can, Of olde time, as knoweth many a man. And if he have not said them, leve* brother, *dear In one book, he hath said them in another For he hath told of lovers up and down, More than Ovide made of mentioun In his Epistolae, that be full old. Why should I telle them, since they he told? In youth he made of Ceyx and Alcyon,<4> And since then he hath spoke of every one These noble wives, and these lovers eke. Whoso that will his large volume seek Called the Saintes’ Legend of Cupid:<5> There may he see the large woundes wide Of Lucrece, and of Babylon Thisbe; The sword of Dido for the false Enee; The tree of Phillis for her Demophon; The plaint of Diane, and of Hermion, Of Ariadne, and Hypsipile; The barren isle standing in the sea; The drown’d Leander for his fair Hero; The teares of Helene, and eke the woe Of Briseis, and Laodamia; The cruelty of thee, Queen Medea, Thy little children hanging by the halse*, *neck For thy Jason, that was of love so false. Hypermnestra, Penelop’, Alcest’, Your wifehood he commendeth with the best. But certainly no worde writeth he Of *thilke wick’* example of Canace, *that wicked* That loved her own brother sinfully; (Of all such cursed stories I say, Fy), Or else of Tyrius Apollonius, How that the cursed king Antiochus Bereft his daughter of her maidenhead; That is so horrible a tale to read, When he her threw upon the pavement. And therefore he, *of full avisement*, *deliberately, advisedly* Would never write in none of his sermons Of such unkind* abominations; *unnatural Nor I will none rehearse, if that I may. But of my tale how shall I do this day? Me were loth to be liken’d doubteless To Muses, that men call Pierides<6> (Metamorphoseos <7> wot what I mean), But natheless I recke not a bean, Though I come after him with hawebake*; *lout <8> I speak in prose, and let him rhymes make.” And with that word, he with a sober cheer Began his tale, and said as ye shall hear.

Notes to the Prologue to The Man of Law’s Tale

1. Plight: pulled; the word is an obsolete past tense from “pluck.”

2. No more than will Malkin’s maidenhead: a proverbial saying; which, however, had obtained fresh point from the Reeve’s Tale, to which the host doubtless refers.

3. De par dieux jeo asente: “by God, I agree”. It is characteristic that the somewhat pompous Sergeant of Law should couch his assent in the semi-barbarous French, then familiar in law procedure.

4. Ceyx and Alcyon: Chaucer treats of these in the introduction to the poem called “The Book of the Duchess.” It relates to the death of Blanche, wife of John of Gaunt, Duke of Lancaster, the poet’s patron, and afterwards his connexion by marriage.

5. The Saintes Legend of Cupid: Now called “The Legend of Good Women”. The names of eight ladies mentioned here are not in the “Legend” as it has come down to us; while those of two ladies in the “legend” — Cleopatra and Philomela — are her omitted.

6. Not the Muses, who had their surname from the place near Mount Olympus where the Thracians first worshipped them; but the nine daughters of Pierus, king of Macedonia, whom he called the nine Muses, and who, being conquered in a contest with the genuine sisterhood, were changed into birds.

7. Metamorphoseos: Ovid’s.

8. Hawebake: hawbuck, country lout; the common proverbial phrase, “to put a rogue above a gentleman,” may throw light on the reading here, which is difficult.

THE TALE. <1>

O scatheful harm, condition of poverty, With thirst, with cold, with hunger so confounded; To aske help thee shameth in thine hearte; If thou none ask, so sore art thou y-wounded, That very need unwrappeth all thy wound hid. Maugre thine head thou must for indigence Or steal, or beg, or borrow thy dispence*. *expense

Thou blamest Christ, and sayst full bitterly, He misdeparteth* riches temporal; *allots amiss Thy neighebour thou witest* sinfully, *blamest And sayst, thou hast too little, and he hath all: “Parfay (sayst thou) sometime he reckon shall, When that his tail shall *brennen in the glede*, *burn in the fire* For he not help’d the needful in their need.”

Hearken what is the sentence of the wise: Better to die than to have indigence. *Thy selve* neighebour will thee despise, *that same* If thou be poor, farewell thy reverence. Yet of the wise man take this sentence, Alle the days of poore men be wick’*, *wicked, evil Beware therefore ere thou come to that prick*. *point

If thou be poor, thy brother hateth thee, And all thy friendes flee from thee, alas! O riche merchants, full of wealth be ye, O noble, prudent folk, as in this case, Your bagges be not fill’d with *ambes ace,* *two aces* But with *six-cinque*, that runneth for your chance;<2> *six-five* At Christenmass well merry may ye dance.

Ye seeke land and sea for your winnings, As wise folk ye knowen all th’ estate Of regnes*; ye be fathers of tidings, *kingdoms And tales, both of peace and of debate*: *contention, war I were right now of tales desolate*, *barren, empty. But that a merchant, gone in many a year, Me taught a tale, which ye shall after hear.

In Syria whilom dwelt a company Of chapmen rich, and thereto sad* and true, *grave, steadfast Clothes of gold, and satins rich of hue. That widewhere* sent their spicery, *to distant parts Their chaffare* was so thriftly** and so new, *wares **advantageous That every wight had dainty* to chaffare** *pleasure **deal With them, and eke to selle them their ware.

Now fell it, that the masters of that sort Have *shapen them* to Rome for to wend, *determined, prepared* Were it for chapmanhood* or for disport, *trading None other message would they thither send, But come themselves to Rome, this is the end: And in such place as thought them a vantage For their intent, they took their herbergage.* *lodging

Sojourned have these merchants in that town A certain time as fell to their pleasance: And so befell, that th’ excellent renown Of th’ emperore’s daughter, Dame Constance, Reported was, with every circumstance, Unto these Syrian merchants in such wise, From day to day, as I shall you devise* *relate

This was the common voice of every man “Our emperor of Rome, God him see*, *look on with favour A daughter hath, that since the the world began, To reckon as well her goodness and beauty, Was never such another as is she: I pray to God in honour her sustene*, *sustain And would she were of all Europe the queen.

“In her is highe beauty without pride, And youth withoute greenhood* or folly: *childishness, immaturity To all her workes virtue is her guide; Humbless hath slain in her all tyranny: She is the mirror of all courtesy, Her heart a very chamber of holiness, Her hand minister of freedom for almess*.” *almsgiving