Chapter 26

“O tender, O dear, O young children mine, Your woeful mother *weened steadfastly* *believed firmly* That cruel houndes, or some foul vermine, Had eaten you; but God of his mercy, And your benigne father tenderly Have *done you keep:”* and in that same stound* *caused you to All suddenly she swapt** down to the ground. be preserved* *hour **fell And in her swoon so sadly* holdeth she *firmly Her children two, when she gan them embrace, That with great sleight* and great difficulty *art The children from her arm they can arace,* *pull away O! many a tear on many a piteous face Down ran of them that stoode her beside, Unneth’* aboute her might they abide. *scarcely

Walter her gladdeth, and her sorrow slaketh:* *assuages She riseth up abashed* from her trance, *astonished And every wight her joy and feaste maketh, Till she hath caught again her countenance. Walter her doth so faithfully pleasance, That it was dainty for to see the cheer Betwixt them two, since they be met in fere.* *together

The ladies, when that they their time sey,* *saw Have taken her, and into chamber gone, And stripped her out of her rude array, And in a cloth of gold that brightly shone, And with a crown of many a riche stone Upon her head, they into hall her brought: And there she was honoured as her ought.

Thus had this piteous day a blissful end; For every man and woman did his might This day in mirth and revel to dispend, Till on the welkin* shone the starres bright: *firmament For more solemn in every mannes sight This feaste was, and greater of costage,* *expense Than was the revel of her marriage.

Full many a year in high prosperity Lived these two in concord and in rest; And richely his daughter married he Unto a lord, one of the worthiest Of all Itale; and then in peace and rest His wife’s father in his court he kept, Till that the soul out of his body crept.

His son succeeded in his heritage, In rest and peace, after his father’s day: And fortunate was eke in marriage, All* he put not his wife in great assay: *although This world is not so strong, it *is no nay,* *not to be denied* As it hath been in olde times yore; And hearken what this author saith, therefore;

This story is said, <14> not for that wives should Follow Griselda in humility, For it were importable* though they would; *not to be borne But for that every wight in his degree Shoulde be constant in adversity, As was Griselda; therefore Petrarch writeth This story, which with high style he inditeth.

For, since a woman was so patient Unto a mortal man, well more we ought Receiven all in gree* that God us sent. good-will *For great skill is he proved that he wrought:* *see note <15>* But he tempteth no man that he hath bought, As saith Saint James, if ye his ’pistle read; He proveth folk all day, it is no dread.* *doubt

And suffereth us, for our exercise, With sharpe scourges of adversity Full often to be beat in sundry wise; Not for to know our will, for certes he, Ere we were born, knew all our frailty; And for our best is all his governance; Let us then live in virtuous sufferance.

But one word, lordings, hearken, ere I go: It were full hard to finde now-a-days In all a town Griseldas three or two: For, if that they were put to such assays, The gold of them hath now so bad allays* *alloys With brass, that though the coin be fair *at eye,* *to see* It woulde rather break in two than ply.* *bend

For which here, for the Wife’s love of Bath, — Whose life and all her sex may God maintain In high mast’ry, and elles were it scath,* — *damage, pity I will, with lusty hearte fresh and green, Say you a song to gladden you, I ween: And let us stint of earnestful mattere. Hearken my song, that saith in this mannere.

L’Envoy of Chaucer.

“Griseld’ is dead, and eke her patience, And both at once are buried in Itale: For which I cry in open audience, No wedded man so hardy be t’ assail His wife’s patience, in trust to find Griselda’s, for in certain he shall fail.

“O noble wives, full of high prudence, Let no humility your tongues nail: Nor let no clerk have cause or diligence To write of you a story of such marvail, As of Griselda patient and kind, Lest Chichevache<16> you swallow in her entrail.

“Follow Echo, that holdeth no silence, But ever answereth at the countertail;* *counter-tally <17> Be not bedaffed* for your innocence, *befooled But sharply take on you the governail;* *helm Imprinte well this lesson in your mind, For common profit, since it may avail.

“Ye archiwives,* stand aye at defence, *wives of rank Since ye be strong as is a great camail,* *camel Nor suffer not that men do you offence. And slender wives, feeble in battail, Be eager as a tiger yond in Ind; Aye clapping as a mill, I you counsail.

“Nor dread them not, nor do them reverence; For though thine husband armed be in mail, The arrows of thy crabbed eloquence Shall pierce his breast, and eke his aventail;<18> In jealousy I rede* eke thou him bind, *advise And thou shalt make him couch* as doth a quail. *submit, shrink

“If thou be fair, where folk be in presence Shew thou thy visage and thine apparail: If thou be foul, be free of thy dispence; To get thee friendes aye do thy travail: Be aye of cheer as light as leaf on lind,* *linden, lime-tree And let him care, and weep, and wring, and wail.”

Notes to the Clerk’s Tale

1. Petrarch, in his Latin romance, “De obedientia et fide uxoria Mythologia,” (Of obedient and faithful wives in Mythology) translated the charming story of “the patient Grizel” from the Italian of Bocaccio’s “Decameron;” and Chaucer has closely followed Petrarch’s translation, made in 1373, the year before that in which he died. The fact that the embassy to Genoa, on which Chaucer was sent, took place in 1372-73, has lent countenance to the opinion that the English poet did actually visit the Italian bard at Padua, and hear the story from his own lips. This, however, is only a probability; for it is a moot point whether the two poets ever met.

2. Vesulus: Monte Viso, a lofty peak at the junction of the Maritime and Cottian Alps; from two springs on its east side rises the Po.

3. Buxomly: obediently; Anglo-Saxon, “bogsom,” old English, “boughsome,” that can be easily bent or bowed; German, “biegsam,” pliant, obedient.

4. Well ofter of the well than of the tun she drank: she drank water much more often than wine.

5. Undern: afternoon, evening, though by some “undern” is understood as dinner-time — 9 a. m. See note 4 to the Wife of Bath’s Tale.

6. Very: true; French “vrai”.

7. Nouches: Ornaments of some kind not precisely known; some editions read “ouches,” studs, brooches. (Transcriber’s note: The OED gives “nouches” as a form of “ouches,” buckles)

8. A furlong way or two: a short time; literally, as long as it takes to walk one or two furlongs (a furlong is 220 yards)

9. Lordes’ hestes may not be y-feign’d: it will not do merely to feign compliance with a lord’s commands.

10. Arace: tear; French, “arracher.”

11. Fele: many; German, “viel.”

12. Dear enough a jane: worth nothing. A jane was a small coin of little worth, so the meaning is “not worth a red cent”.

13. Mo: me. “This is one of the most licentious corruptions of orthography,” says Tyrwhitt, “that I remember to have observed in Chaucer;” but such liberties were common among the European poets of his time, when there was an extreme lack of certainty in orthography.

14. The fourteen lines that follow are translated almost literally from Petrarch’s Latin.

15. For great skill is he proved that he wrought: for it is most reasonable that He should prove or test that which he made.

16. Chichevache, in old popular fable, was a monster that fed only on good women, and was always very thin from scarcity of such food; a corresponding monster, Bycorne, fed only on obedient and kind husbands, and was always fat. The origin of the fable was French; but Lydgate has a ballad on the subject. “Chichevache” literally means “niggardly” or “greedy cow.”

17. Countertail: Counter-tally or counter-foil; something exactly corresponding.

18. Aventail: forepart of a helmet, vizor.

THE MERCHANT’S TALE.

THE PROLOGUE.

“Weeping and wailing, care and other sorrow, I have enough, on even and on morrow,” Quoth the Merchant, “and so have other mo’, That wedded be; I trow* that it be so; *believe For well I wot it fareth so by me. I have a wife, the worste that may be, For though the fiend to her y-coupled were, She would him overmatch, I dare well swear. Why should I you rehearse in special Her high malice? she is *a shrew at all.* *thoroughly, in There is a long and large difference everything wicked* Betwixt Griselda’s greate patience, And of my wife the passing cruelty. Were I unbounden, all so may I the,* *thrive I woulde never eft* come in the snare. *again We wedded men live in sorrow and care; Assay it whoso will, and he shall find That I say sooth, by Saint Thomas of Ind,<2> As for the more part; I say not all, — God shielde* that it shoulde so befall. *forbid Ah! good Sir Host, I have y-wedded be These moneths two, and more not, pardie; And yet I trow* that he that all his life *believe Wifeless hath been, though that men would him rive* *wound Into the hearte, could in no mannere Telle so much sorrow, as I you here Could tellen of my wife’s cursedness.”* *wickedness

“Now,” quoth our Host, “Merchant, so God you bless, Since ye so muche knowen of that art, Full heartily I pray you tell us part.” “Gladly,” quoth he; “but of mine owen sore, For sorry heart, I telle may no more.”

Notes to the Prologue to the Merchant’s Tale

1. Though the manner in which the Merchant takes up the closing words of the Envoy to the Clerk’s Tale, and refers to the patience of Griselda, seems to prove beyond doubt that the order of the Tales in the text is the right one, yet in some manuscripts of good authority the Franklin’s Tale follows the Clerk’s, and the Envoy is concluded by this stanza: — “This worthy Clerk when ended was his tale, Our Hoste said, and swore by cocke’s bones ‘Me lever were than a barrel of ale My wife at home had heard this legend once; This is a gentle tale for the nonce; As, to my purpose, wiste ye my will. But thing that will not be, let it be still.’”

In other manuscripts of less authority the Host proceeds, in two similar stanzas, to impose a Tale on the Franklin; but Tyrwhitt is probably right in setting them aside as spurious, and in admitting the genuineness of the first only, if it be supposed that Chaucer forgot to cancel it when he had decided on another mode of connecting the Merchant’s with the Clerk’s Tale.

2. Saint Thomas of Ind: St. Thomas the Apostle, who was believed to have travelled in India.

THE TALE.

Whilom there was dwelling in Lombardy A worthy knight, that born was at Pavie, In which he liv’d in great prosperity; And forty years a wifeless man was he, And follow’d aye his bodily delight On women, where as was his appetite, As do these fooles that be seculeres.<2> And, when that he was passed sixty years, Were it for holiness, or for dotage, I cannot say, but such a great corage* *inclination Hadde this knight to be a wedded man, That day and night he did all that he can To espy where that he might wedded be; Praying our Lord to grante him, that he Mighte once knowen of that blissful life That is betwixt a husband and his wife, And for to live under that holy bond With which God firste man and woman bond. “None other life,” said he, “is worth a bean; For wedlock is so easy, and so clean, That in this world it is a paradise.” Thus said this olde knight, that was so wise. And certainly, as sooth* as God is king, *true To take a wife it is a glorious thing, And namely* when a man is old and hoar, *especially Then is a wife the fruit of his treasor; Then should he take a young wife and a fair, On which he might engender him an heir, And lead his life in joy and in solace;* *mirth, delight Whereas these bachelors singen “Alas!” When that they find any adversity In love, which is but childish vanity. And truely it sits* well to be so, *becomes, befits That bachelors have often pain and woe: On brittle ground they build, and brittleness They finde when they *weene sickerness:* *think that there They live but as a bird or as a beast, is security* In liberty, and under no arrest;* *check, control Whereas a wedded man in his estate Liveth a life blissful and ordinate, Under the yoke of marriage y-bound; Well may his heart in joy and bliss abound. For who can be so buxom* as a wife? *obedient Who is so true, and eke so attentive To keep* him, sick and whole, as is his make?** *care for **mate For weal or woe she will him not forsake: She is not weary him to love and serve, Though that he lie bedrid until he sterve.* *die And yet some clerkes say it is not so; Of which he, Theophrast, is one of tho:* *those *What force* though Theophrast list for to lie? *what matter*

“Take no wife,” quoth he, <3> “for husbandry,* *thrift As for to spare in household thy dispence; A true servant doth more diligence Thy good to keep, than doth thine owen wife, For she will claim a half part all her life. And if that thou be sick, so God me save, Thy very friendes, or a true knave,* *servant Will keep thee bet than she, that *waiteth aye *ahways waits to After thy good,* and hath done many a day.” inherit your property* This sentence, and a hundred times worse, Writeth this man, there God his bones curse. But take no keep* of all such vanity, *notice Defy* Theophrast, and hearken to me. *distrust

A wife is Godde’s gifte verily; All other manner giftes hardily,* *truly As handes, rentes, pasture, or commune,* *common land Or mebles,* all be giftes of fortune, *furniture <4> That passen as a shadow on the wall: But dread* thou not, if plainly speak I shall, *doubt A wife will last, and in thine house endure, Well longer than thee list, paraventure.* *perhaps Marriage is a full great sacrament; He which that hath no wife, I hold him shent;* *ruined He liveth helpless, and all desolate (I speak of folk *in secular estate*): *who are not And hearken why, I say not this for nought, — of the clergy* That woman is for manne’s help y-wrought. The highe God, when he had Adam maked, And saw him all alone belly naked, God of his greate goodness saide then, Let us now make a help unto this man Like to himself; and then he made him Eve. Here may ye see, and hereby may ye preve,* *prove That a wife is man s help and his comfort, His paradise terrestre and his disport. So buxom* and so virtuous is she, *obedient, complying They muste needes live in unity; One flesh they be, and one blood, as I guess, With but one heart in weal and in distress. A wife? Ah! Saint Mary, ben’dicite, How might a man have any adversity That hath a wife? certes I cannot say The bliss the which that is betwixt them tway, There may no tongue it tell, or hearte think. If he be poor, she helpeth him to swink;* *labour She keeps his good, and wasteth never a deal;* *whit All that her husband list, her liketh* well; *pleaseth She saith not ones Nay, when he saith Yea; “Do this,” saith he; “All ready, Sir,” saith she. O blissful order, wedlock precious! Thou art so merry, and eke so virtuous, And so commended and approved eke, That every man that holds him worth a leek Upon his bare knees ought all his life To thank his God, that him hath sent a wife; Or elles pray to God him for to send A wife, to last unto his life’s end. For then his life is set in sickerness,* *security He may not be deceived, as I guess, So that he work after his wife’s rede;* *counsel Then may he boldely bear up his head, They be so true, and therewithal so wise. For which, if thou wilt worken as the wise, Do alway so as women will thee rede. * *counsel Lo how that Jacob, as these clerkes read, By good counsel of his mother Rebecc’ Bounde the kiddes skin about his neck; For which his father’s benison* he wan. *benediction Lo Judith, as the story telle can, By good counsel she Godde’s people kept, And slew him, Holofernes, while he slept. Lo Abigail, by good counsel, how she Saved her husband Nabal, when that he Should have been slain. And lo, Esther also By counsel good deliver’d out of woe The people of God, and made him, Mardoche, Of Assuere enhanced* for to be. *advanced in dignity There is nothing *in gree superlative* *of higher esteem* (As saith Senec) above a humble wife. Suffer thy wife’s tongue, as Cato bit;* *bid She shall command, and thou shalt suffer it, And yet she will obey of courtesy. A wife is keeper of thine husbandry: Well may the sicke man bewail and weep, There as there is no wife the house to keep. I warne thee, if wisely thou wilt wirch,* *work Love well thy wife, as Christ loveth his church: Thou lov’st thyself, if thou lovest thy wife. No man hateth his flesh, but in his life He fost’reth it; and therefore bid I thee Cherish thy wife, or thou shalt never the.* *thrive Husband and wife, what *so men jape or play,* *although men joke Of worldly folk holde the sicker* way; and jeer* *certain They be so knit there may no harm betide, And namely* upon the wife’s side. * especially

For which this January, of whom I told, Consider’d hath within his dayes old, The lusty life, the virtuous quiet, That is in marriage honey-sweet. And for his friends upon a day he sent To tell them the effect of his intent. With face sad,* his tale he hath them told: *grave, earnest He saide, “Friendes, I am hoar and old, And almost (God wot) on my pitte’s* brink, *grave’s Upon my soule somewhat must I think. I have my body foolishly dispended, Blessed be God that it shall be amended; For I will be certain a wedded man, And that anon in all the haste I can, Unto some maiden, fair and tender of age; I pray you shape* for my marriage * arrange, contrive All suddenly, for I will not abide: And I will fond* to espy, on my side, *try To whom I may be wedded hastily. But forasmuch as ye be more than, Ye shalle rather* such a thing espy Than I, and where me best were to ally. But one thing warn I you, my friendes dear, I will none old wife have in no mannere: She shall not passe sixteen year certain. Old fish and younge flesh would I have fain. Better,” quoth he, “a pike than a pickerel,* *young pike And better than old beef is tender veal. I will no woman thirty year of age, It is but beanestraw and great forage. And eke these olde widows (God it wot) They conne* so much craft on Wade’s boat,<5> *know *So muche brooke harm when that them lest,* *they can do so much That with them should I never live in rest. harm when they wish* For sundry schooles make subtle clerkes; Woman of many schooles half a clerk is. But certainly a young thing men may guy,* *guide Right as men may warm wax with handes ply.* *bend,mould Wherefore I say you plainly in a clause, I will none old wife have, right for this cause. For if so were I hadde such mischance, That I in her could have no pleasance, Then should I lead my life in avoutrie,* *adultery And go straight to the devil when I die. Nor children should I none upon her getten: Yet *were me lever* houndes had me eaten *I would rather* Than that mine heritage shoulde fall In strange hands: and this I tell you all. I doubte not I know the cause why Men shoulde wed: and farthermore know I There speaketh many a man of marriage That knows no more of it than doth my page, For what causes a man should take a wife. If he ne may not live chaste his life, Take him a wife with great devotion, Because of lawful procreation Of children, to th’ honour of God above, And not only for paramour or love; And for they shoulde lechery eschew, And yield their debte when that it is due: Or for that each of them should help the other In mischief,* as a sister shall the brother, *trouble And live in chastity full holily. But, Sires, by your leave, that am not I, For, God be thanked, I dare make avaunt,* *boast I feel my limbes stark* and suffisant *strong To do all that a man belongeth to: I wot myselfe best what I may do. Though I be hoar, I fare as doth a tree, That blossoms ere the fruit y-waxen* be; *grown The blossomy tree is neither dry nor dead; I feel me now here hoar but on my head. Mine heart and all my limbes are as green As laurel through the year is for to seen.* *see And, since that ye have heard all mine intent, I pray you to my will ye would assent.”

Diverse men diversely him told Of marriage many examples old; Some blamed it, some praised it, certain; But at the haste, shortly for to sayn (As all day* falleth altercation *constantly, every day Betwixte friends in disputation), There fell a strife betwixt his brethren two, Of which that one was called Placebo, Justinus soothly called was that other.