Chapter 44

Tiburce answer’d, and saide, “Brother dear, First tell me whither I shall, and to what man?” “To whom?” quoth he, “come forth with goode cheer, I will thee lead unto the Pope Urban.” “To Urban? brother mine Valerian,” Quoth then Tiburce; “wilt thou me thither lead? Me thinketh that it were a wondrous deed.

“Meanest thou not that Urban,” quoth he tho,* *then “That is so often damned to be dead, And wons* in halkes** always to and fro, *dwells **corners And dare not ones putte forth his head? Men should him brennen* in a fire so red, *burn If he were found, or if men might him spy: And us also, to bear him company.

“And while we seeke that Divinity That is y-hid in heaven privily, Algate* burnt in this world should we be.” *nevertheless To whom Cecilie answer’d boldely; “Men mighte dreade well and skilfully* *reasonably This life to lose, mine owen deare brother, If this were living only, and none other.

“But there is better life in other place, That never shall be loste, dread thee nought; Which Godde’s Son us tolde through his grace That Father’s Son which alle thinges wrought; And all that wrought is with a skilful* thought, *reasonable The Ghost,* that from the Father gan proceed, *Holy Spirit Hath souled* them, withouten any drede.** *endowed them with a soul **doubt By word and by miracle, high God’s Son, When he was in this world, declared here. That there is other life where men may won.”* *dwell To whom answer’d Tiburce, “O sister dear, Saidest thou not right now in this mannere, There was but one God, Lord in soothfastness,* *truth And now of three how may’st thou bear witness?”

“That shall I tell,” quoth she, “ere that I go. Right as a man hath sapiences* three, *mental faculties Memory, engine,* and intellect also, *wit <11> So in one being of divinity Three persones there maye right well be.” Then gan she him full busily to preach Of Christe’s coming, and his paines teach,

And many pointes of his passion; How Godde’s Son in this world was withhold* *employed To do mankinde plein* remission, *full That was y-bound in sin and cares cold.* *wretched <12> All this thing she unto Tiburce told, And after that Tiburce, in good intent, With Valerian to Pope Urban he went.

That thanked God, and with glad heart and light He christen’d him, and made him in that place Perfect in his learning, and Godde’s knight. And after this Tiburce got such grace, That every day he saw in time and space Th’ angel of God, and every manner boon* *request, favour That be God asked, it was sped* full anon. *granted, successful

It were full hard by order for to sayn How many wonders Jesus for them wrought, But at the last, to telle short and plain, The sergeants of the town of Rome them sought, And them before Almach the Prefect brought, Which them apposed,* and knew all their intent, *questioned And to th’image of Jupiter them sent.

And said, “Whoso will not do sacrifice, Swap* off his head, this is my sentence here.” *strike Anon these martyrs, *that I you devise,* *of whom I tell you* One Maximus, that was an officere Of the prefect’s, and his corniculere <13> Them hent,* and when he forth the saintes lad,** *seized **led Himself he wept for pity that he had.

When Maximus had heard the saintes lore,* *doctrine, teaching He got him of the tormentores* leave, *torturers And led them to his house withoute more; And with their preaching, ere that it were eve, They gonnen* from the tormentors to reave,** *began **wrest, root out And from Maxim’, and from his folk each one, The false faith, to trow* in God alone. *believe

Cecilia came, when it was waxen night, With priestes, that them christen’d *all in fere;* *in a company* And afterward, when day was waxen light, Cecile them said with a full steadfast cheer,* *mien “Now, Christe’s owen knightes lefe* and dear, *beloved Cast all away the workes of darkness, And arme you in armour of brightness.

Ye have forsooth y-done a great battaile, Your course is done, your faith have ye conserved; <14> O to the crown of life that may not fail; The rightful Judge, which that ye have served Shall give it you, as ye have it deserved.” And when this thing was said, as I devise,* relate Men led them forth to do the sacrifice.

But when they were unto the place brought To telle shortly the conclusion, They would incense nor sacrifice right nought But on their knees they sette them adown, With humble heart and sad* devotion, *steadfast And loste both their heades in the place; Their soules wente to the King of grace.

This Maximus, that saw this thing betide, With piteous teares told it anon right, That he their soules saw to heaven glide With angels, full of clearness and of light Andt with his word converted many a wight. For which Almachius *did him to-beat* *see note <15>* With whip of lead, till he his life gan lete.* *quit

Cecile him took, and buried him anon By Tiburce and Valerian softely, Within their burying-place, under the stone. And after this Almachius hastily Bade his ministers fetchen openly Cecile, so that she might in his presence Do sacrifice, and Jupiter incense.* *burn incense to

But they, converted at her wise lore,* *teaching Wepte full sore, and gave full credence Unto her word, and cried more and more; “Christ, Godde’s Son, withoute difference, Is very God, this is all our sentence,* *opinion That hath so good a servant him to serve Thus with one voice we trowe,* though we sterve.** *believe **die

Almachius, that heard of this doing, Bade fetch Cecilie, that he might her see; And alderfirst,* lo, this was his asking; *first of all “What manner woman arte thou?” quoth he, “I am a gentle woman born,” quoth she. “I aske thee,” quoth he,”though it thee grieve, Of thy religion and of thy believe.”

“Ye have begun your question foolishly,” Quoth she, “that wouldest two answers conclude In one demand? ye aske lewedly.”* *ignorantly Almach answer’d to that similitude, “Of whence comes thine answering so rude?” “Of whence?” quoth she, when that she was freined,* *asked “Of conscience, and of good faith unfeigned.”

Almachius saide; “Takest thou no heed Of my power?” and she him answer’d this; “Your might,” quoth she, “full little is to dread; For every mortal manne’s power is But like a bladder full of wind, y-wis;* *certainly For with a needle’s point, when it is blow’, May all the boast of it be laid full low.”

“Full wrongfully begunnest thou,” quoth he, “And yet in wrong is thy perseverance. Know’st thou not how our mighty princes free Have thus commanded and made ordinance, That every Christian wight shall have penance,* *punishment But if that he his Christendom withsay,* *deny And go all quit, if he will it renay?”* *renounce

“Your princes erren, as your nobley* doth,” *nobility Quoth then Cecile, “and with a *wood sentence* *mad judgment* Ye make us guilty, and it is not sooth:* *true For ye that knowe well our innocence, Forasmuch as we do aye reverence To Christ, and for we bear a Christian name, Ye put on us a crime and eke a blame.

“But we that knowe thilke name so For virtuous, we may it not withsay.” Almach answered, “Choose one of these two, Do sacrifice, or Christendom renay, That thou may’st now escape by that way.” At which the holy blissful faire maid Gan for to laugh, and to the judge said;

“O judge, *confused in thy nicety,* *confounded in thy folly* Wouldest thou that I reny innocence? To make me a wicked wight,” quoth she, “Lo, he dissimuleth* here in audience; *dissembles He stareth and woodeth* in his advertence.”** *grows furious **thought To whom Almachius said, “Unsely* wretch, *unhappy Knowest thou not how far my might may stretch?

“Have not our mighty princes to me given Yea bothe power and eke authority To make folk to dien or to liven? Why speakest thou so proudly then to me?” “I speake not but steadfastly,” quoth she, Not proudly, for I say, as for my side, We hate deadly* thilke vice of pride. *mortally

“And, if thou dreade not a sooth* to hear, *truth Then will I shew all openly by right, That thou hast made a full great leasing* here. *falsehood Thou say’st thy princes have thee given might Both for to slay and for to quick* a wight, — *give life to Thou that may’st not but only life bereave; Thou hast none other power nor no leave.

“But thou may’st say, thy princes have thee maked Minister of death; for if thou speak of mo’, Thou liest; for thy power is full naked.” “Do away thy boldness,” said Almachius tho,* *then “And sacrifice to our gods, ere thou go. I recke not what wrong that thou me proffer, For I can suffer it as a philosopher.

“But those wronges may I not endure, That thou speak’st of our goddes here,” quoth he. Cecile answer’d, “O nice* creature, *foolish Thou saidest no word, since thou spake to me, That I knew not therewith thy nicety,* *folly And that thou wert in *every manner wise* *every sort of way* A lewed* officer, a vain justice. *ignorant

“There lacketh nothing to thine outward eyen That thou art blind; for thing that we see all That it is stone, that men may well espyen, That ilke* stone a god thou wilt it call. *very, selfsame I rede* thee let thine hand upon it fall, *advise And taste* it well, and stone thou shalt it find; *examine, test Since that thou see’st not with thine eyen blind.

“It is a shame that the people shall So scorne thee, and laugh at thy folly; For commonly men *wot it well over all,* *know it everywhere* That mighty God is in his heaven high; And these images, well may’st thou espy, To thee nor to themselves may not profite, For in effect they be not worth a mite.”

These wordes and such others saide she, And he wax’d wroth, and bade men should her lead Home to her house; “And in her house,” quoth he, “Burn her right in a bath, with flames red.” And as he bade, right so was done the deed; For in a bath they gan her faste shetten,* *shut, confine And night and day great fire they under betten.* *kindled, applied

The longe night, and eke a day also, For all the fire, and eke the bathe’s heat, She sat all cold, and felt of it no woe, It made her not one droppe for to sweat; But in that bath her life she must lete.* *leave For he, Almachius, with full wick’ intent, To slay her in the bath his sonde* sent. *message, order

Three strokes in the neck he smote her tho,* *there The tormentor,* but for no manner chance *executioner He might not smite her faire neck in two: And, for there was that time an ordinance That no man should do man such penance,* *severity, torture The fourthe stroke to smite, soft or sore, This tormentor he durste do no more;

But half dead, with her necke carven* there *gashed He let her lie, and on his way is went. The Christian folk, which that about her were, With sheetes have the blood full fair y-hent; *taken up Three dayes lived she in this torment, And never ceased them the faith to teach, That she had foster’d them, she gan to preach.

And them she gave her mebles* and her thing, *goods And to the Pope Urban betook* them tho;** *commended **then And said, “I aske this of heaven’s king, To have respite three dayes and no mo’, To recommend to you, ere that I go, These soules, lo; and that *I might do wirch* *cause to be made* Here of mine house perpetually a church.”

Saint Urban, with his deacons, privily The body fetch’d, and buried it by night Among his other saintes honestly; Her house the church of Saint Cecilie hight;* *is called Saint Urban hallow’d it, as he well might; In which unto this day, in noble wise, Men do to Christ and to his saint service.

Notes to the Nun’s Priest’s Tale

1. This Tale was originally composed by Chaucer as a separate work, and as such it is mentioned in the “Legend of Good Women” under the title of “The Life of Saint Cecile”. Tyrwhitt quotes the line in which the author calls himself an “unworthy son of Eve,” and that in which he says, “Yet pray I you, that reade what I write”, as internal evidence that the insertion of the poem in the Canterbury Tales was the result of an afterthought; while the whole tenor of the introduction confirms the belief that Chaucer composed it as a writer or translator — not, dramatically, as a speaker. The story is almost literally translated from the Life of St Cecilia in the “Legenda Aurea.”

2. Leas: leash, snare; the same as “las,” oftener used by Chaucer.

3. The nativity and assumption of the Virgin Mary formed the themes of some of St Bernard’s most eloquent sermons.

4. Compare with this stanza the fourth stanza of the Prioress’s Tale, the substance of which is the same.

5. “But he answered and said, it is not meet to take the children’s bread, and cast it to dogs. And she said, Truth, Lord: yet the dogs eat of the crumbs which fall from their master’s table.” — Matthew xv. 26, 27.

6. See note 1.

7. These are Latin puns: Heaven’s lily - “Coeli lilium”; The way of blind - “Caeci via”; Heaven and Lia - from “Coeli”, heaven, and “Ligo,” to bind; Heaven and Leos - from Coeli and “Laos,” (Ionian Greek) or “Leos” (Attic Greek), the people. Such punning derivations of proper names were very much in favour in the Middle Ages. The explanations of St Cecilia’s name are literally taken from the prologue to the Latin legend.

8. This passage suggests Horace’s description of the wise man, who, among other things, is “in se ipse totus, teres, atque rotundus.” (“complete in himself, polished and rounded”) — Satires, 2, vii. 80.

9. Louting: lingering, or lying concealed; the Latin original has “Inter sepulchra martyrum latiantem” (“hiding among the tombs of martyrs”)

10. The fourteen lines within brackets are supposed to have been originally an interpolation in the Latin legend, from which they are literally translated. They awkwardly interrupt the flow of the narration.

11. Engine: wit; the devising or constructive faculty; Latin, “ingenium.”

12. Cold: wretched, distressful; see note 22 to the Nun’s Priest’s Tale.

13. Corniculere: The secretary or registrar who was charged with publishing the acts, decrees and orders of the prefect.

14. “I have fought a good fight, I have finished my course, I have kept the faith: Henceforth there is laid up for me a crown of righteousness” — 2 Tim. iv. 7, 8.

15. Did him to-beat: Caused him to be cruelly or fatally beaten; the force of the “to” is intensive.

THE CANON’S YEOMAN’S TALE. <1>

THE PROLOGUE.

WHEN ended was the life of Saint Cecile, Ere we had ridden fully five mile, <2> At Boughton-under-Blee us gan o’ertake A man, that clothed was in clothes black, And underneath he wore a white surplice. His hackenay,* which was all pomely-gris,** *nag **dapple-gray So sweated, that it wonder was to see; It seem’d as he had pricked* miles three. *spurred The horse eke that his yeoman rode upon So sweated, that unnethes* might he gon.** *hardly **go About the peytrel <3> stood the foam full high; He was of foam, as *flecked as a pie.* *spotted like a magpie* A maile twyfold <4> on his crupper lay; It seemed that he carried little array; All light for summer rode this worthy man. And in my heart to wonder I began What that he was, till that I understood How that his cloak was sewed to his hood; For which, when I had long advised* me, *considered I deemed him some Canon for to be. His hat hung at his back down by a lace,* *cord For he had ridden more than trot or pace; He hadde pricked like as he were wood.* *mad A clote-leaf* he had laid under his hood, * burdock-leaf For sweat, and for to keep his head from heat. But it was joye for to see him sweat; His forehead dropped as a stillatory* *still Were full of plantain or of paritory.* *wallflower And when that he was come, he gan to cry, “God save,” quoth he, “this jolly company. Fast have I pricked,” quoth he, “for your sake, Because that I would you overtake, To riden in this merry company.” His Yeoman was eke full of courtesy, And saide, “Sirs, now in the morning tide Out of your hostelry I saw you ride, And warned here my lord and sovereign, Which that to ride with you is full fain, For his disport; he loveth dalliance.” “Friend, for thy warning God give thee good chance,”* *fortune Said oure Host; “certain it woulde seem Thy lord were wise, and so I may well deem; He is full jocund also, dare I lay; Can he aught tell a merry tale or tway, With which he gladden may this company?” “Who, Sir? my lord? Yea, Sir, withoute lie, He can* of mirth and eke of jollity *knows *Not but* enough; also, Sir, truste me, *not less than* An* ye him knew all so well as do I, *if Ye would wonder how well and craftily He coulde work, and that in sundry wise. He hath take on him many a great emprise,* *task, undertaking Which were full hard for any that is here To bring about, but* they of him it lear.** *unless **learn As homely as he rides amonges you, If ye him knew, it would be for your prow:* *advantage Ye woulde not forego his acquaintance For muche good, I dare lay in balance All that I have in my possession. He is a man of high discretion. I warn you well, he is a passing* man.” *surpassing, extraordinary Well,” quoth our Host, “I pray thee tell me than, Is he a clerk,* or no? Tell what he is.” *scholar, priest “Nay, he is greater than a clerk, y-wis,”* *certainly Saide this Yeoman; “and, in wordes few, Host, of his craft somewhat I will you shew, I say, my lord can* such a subtlety *knows (But all his craft ye may not weet* of me, *learn And somewhat help I yet to his working), That all the ground on which we be riding Till that we come to Canterbury town, He could all cleane turnen up so down, And pave it all of silver and of gold.” And when this Yeoman had this tale told Unto our Host, he said; “Ben’dicite! This thing is wonder marvellous to me, Since that thy lord is of so high prudence, Because of which men should him reverence, That of his worship* recketh he so lite;** *honour **little His *overest slop* it is not worth a mite *upper garment* As in effect to him, so may I go; It is all baudy* and to-tore also. *slovenly Why is thy lord so sluttish, I thee pray, And is of power better clothes to bey,* *buy If that his deed accordeth with thy speech? Telle me that, and that I thee beseech.”

“Why?” quoth this Yeoman, “whereto ask ye me? God help me so, for he shall never the* *thrive (But I will not avowe* that I say, *admit And therefore keep it secret, I you pray); He is too wise, in faith, as I believe. Thing that is overdone, it will not preve* *stand the test Aright, as clerkes say; it is a vice; Wherefore in that I hold him *lewd and nice.”* *ignorant and foolish* For when a man hath over great a wit, Full oft him happens to misusen it; So doth my lord, and that me grieveth sore. God it amend; I can say now no more.”

“Thereof *no force,* good Yeoman, “quoth our Host; *no matter* “Since of the conning* of thy lord, thou know’st, *knowledge Tell how he doth, I pray thee heartily, Since that be is so crafty and so sly.* *wise Where dwelle ye, if it to telle be?” “In the suburbes of a town,” quoth he, “Lurking in hernes* and in lanes blind, *corners Where as these robbers and these thieves by kind* *nature Holde their privy fearful residence, As they that dare not show their presence, So fare we, if I shall say the soothe.”* *truth “Yet,” quoth our Hoste, “let me talke to thee; Why art thou so discolour’d of thy face?” “Peter!” quoth he, “God give it harde grace, I am so us’d the hote fire to blow, That it hath changed my colour, I trow; I am not wont in no mirror to pry, But swinke* sore, and learn to multiply. <5> *labour We blunder* ever, and poren** in the fire, *toil **peer And, for all that, we fail of our desire For ever we lack our conclusion To muche folk we do illusion, And borrow gold, be it a pound or two, Or ten or twelve, or many summes mo’, And make them weenen,* at the leaste way, *fancy That of a pounde we can make tway. Yet is it false; and aye we have good hope It for to do, and after it we grope:* *search, strive But that science is so far us beforn, That we may not, although we had it sworn, It overtake, it slides away so fast; It will us make beggars at the last.” While this Yeoman was thus in his talking, This Canon drew him near, and heard all thing Which this Yeoman spake, for suspicion Of menne’s speech ever had this Canon: For Cato saith, that he that guilty is, <6> Deemeth all things be spoken of him y-wis;* *surely Because of that he gan so nigh to draw To his Yeoman, that he heard all his saw; And thus he said unto his Yeoman tho* *then “Hold thou thy peace,and speak no wordes mo’: For if thou do, thou shalt *it dear abie.* *pay dearly for it* Thou slanderest me here in this company And eke discoverest that thou shouldest hide.” “Yea,” quoth our Host, “tell on, whatso betide; Of all his threatening reck not a mite.” “In faith,” quoth he, “no more do I but lite.”* *little And when this Canon saw it would not be But his Yeoman would tell his privity,* *secrets He fled away for very sorrow and shame.