Chapter 45

“Ah!” quoth the Yeoman, “here shall rise a game;* *some diversion All that I can anon I will you tell, Since he is gone; the foule fiend him quell!* *destroy For ne’er hereafter will I with him meet, For penny nor for pound, I you behete.* *promise He that me broughte first unto that game, Ere that he die, sorrow have he and shame. For it is earnest* to me, by my faith; *a serious matter That feel I well, what so any man saith; And yet for all my smart, and all my grief, For all my sorrow, labour, and mischief,* *trouble I coulde never leave it in no wise. Now would to God my witte might suffice To tellen all that longeth to that art! But natheless yet will I telle part; Since that my lord is gone, I will not spare; Such thing as that I know, I will declare.”

Notes to the Prologue to the Canon’s Yeoman’s Tale

1. “The introduction,” says Tyrwhitt, “of the Canon’s Yeoman to tell a Tale at a time when so many of the original characters remain to be called upon, appears a little extraordinary. It should seem that some sudden resentment had determined Chaucer to interrupt the regular course of his work, in order to insert a satire against the alchemists. That their pretended science was much cultivated about this time, and produced its usual evils, may fairly be inferred from the Act, which was passed soon after, 5 H. IV. c. iv., to make it felony ‘to multiply gold or silver, or to use the art of multiplication.’” Tyrwhitt finds in the prologue some colour for the hypothesis that this Tale was intended by Chaucer to begin the return journey from Canterbury; but against this must be set the fact that the Yeoman himself expressly speaks of the distance to Canterbury yet to be ridden.

2. Fully five mile: From some place which the loss of the Second Nun’s Prologue does not enable us to identify.

3. Peytrel: the breast-plate of a horse’s harness; French, “poitrail.”

4. A maile twyfold: a double valise; a wallet hanging across the crupper on either side of the horse.

5. Multiply: transmute metals, in the attempt to multiply gold and silver by alchemy.

6. “Conscius ipse sibi de se putat omnia dici” (“The conspirator believes that everything spoken refers to himself”) — “De Moribus,” I. i. dist. 17.

THE TALE. <1>

With this Canon I dwelt have seven year, And of his science am I ne’er the near* *nearer All that I had I have lost thereby, And, God wot, so have many more than I. Where I was wont to be right fresh and gay Of clothing, and of other good array Now may I wear an hose upon mine head; And where my colour was both fresh and red, Now is it wan, and of a leaden hue (Whoso it useth, sore shall he it rue); And of my swink* yet bleared is mine eye; *labour Lo what advantage is to multiply! That sliding* science hath me made so bare, *slippery, deceptive That I have no good,* where that ever I fare; *property And yet I am indebted so thereby Of gold, that I have borrow’d truely, That, while I live, I shall it quite* never; *repay Let every man beware by me for ever. What manner man that casteth* him thereto, *betaketh If he continue, I hold *his thrift y-do;* *prosperity at an end* So help me God, thereby shall he not win, But empty his purse, and make his wittes thin. And when he, through his madness and folly, Hath lost his owen good through jupartie,* *hazard <2> Then he exciteth other men thereto, To lose their good as he himself hath do’. For unto shrewes* joy it is and ease *wicked folk To have their fellows in pain and disease.* *trouble Thus was I ones learned of a clerk; Of that no charge;* I will speak of our work. *matter

When we be there as we shall exercise Our elvish* craft, we seeme wonder wise, *fantastic, wicked Our termes be so *clergial and quaint.* *learned and strange I blow the fire till that mine hearte faint. Why should I tellen each proportion Of thinges, whiche that we work upon, As on five or six ounces, may well be, Of silver, or some other quantity? And busy me to telle you the names, As orpiment, burnt bones, iron squames,* *scales <3> That into powder grounden be full small? And in an earthen pot how put is all, And, salt y-put in, and also peppere, Before these powders that I speak of here, And well y-cover’d with a lamp of glass? And of much other thing which that there was? And of the pots and glasses engluting,* *sealing up That of the air might passen out no thing? And of the easy* fire, and smart** also, *slow **quick Which that was made? and of the care and woe That we had in our matters subliming, And in amalgaming, and calcining Of quicksilver, called mercury crude? For all our sleightes we can not conclude. Our orpiment, and sublim’d mercury, Our ground litharge* eke on the porphyry, *white lead Of each of these of ounces a certain,* *certain proportion Not helpeth us, our labour is in vain. Nor neither our spirits’ ascensioun, Nor our matters that lie all fix’d adown, May in our working nothing us avail; For lost is all our labour and travail, And all the cost, a twenty devil way, Is lost also, which we upon it lay.

There is also full many another thing That is unto our craft appertaining, Though I by order them not rehearse can, Because that I am a lewed* man; *unlearned Yet will I tell them as they come to mind, Although I cannot set them in their kind, As sal-armoniac, verdigris, borace; And sundry vessels made of earth and glass; <4> Our urinales, and our descensories, Phials, and croslets, and sublimatories, Cucurbites, and alembikes eke, And other suche, *dear enough a leek,* *worth less than a leek* It needeth not for to rehearse them all. Waters rubifying, and bulles’ gall, Arsenic, sal-armoniac, and brimstone, And herbes could I tell eke many a one, As egremoine,* valerian, and lunary,** *agrimony **moon-wort And other such, if that me list to tarry; Our lampes burning bothe night and day, To bring about our craft if that we may; Our furnace eke of calcination, And of waters albification, Unslaked lime, chalk, and *glair of an ey,* *egg-white Powders diverse, ashes, dung, piss, and clay, Seared pokettes,<5> saltpetre, and vitriol; And divers fires made of wood and coal; Sal-tartar, alkali, salt preparate, And combust matters, and coagulate; Clay made with horse and manne’s hair, and oil Of tartar, alum, glass, barm, wort, argoil,* *potter’s clay<6> Rosalgar,* and other matters imbibing; *flowers of antimony And eke of our matters encorporing,* *incorporating And of our silver citrination, <7> Our cementing, and fermentation, Our ingots,* tests, and many thinges mo’. *moulds <8> I will you tell, as was me taught also, The foure spirits, and the bodies seven, By order, as oft I heard my lord them neven.* *name The first spirit Quicksilver called is; The second Orpiment; the third, y-wis, Sal-Armoniac, and the fourth Brimstone. The bodies sev’n eke, lo them here anon. Sol gold is, and Luna silver we threpe* *name <9> Mars iron, Mercury quicksilver we clepe;* *call Saturnus lead, and Jupiter is tin, And Venus copper, by my father’s kin.

This cursed craft whoso will exercise, He shall no good have that him may suffice; For all the good he spendeth thereabout, He lose shall, thereof have I no doubt. Whoso that list to utter* his folly, *display Let him come forth and learn to multiply: And every man that hath aught in his coffer, Let him appear, and wax a philosopher; Ascaunce* that craft is so light to lear.** *as if **learn Nay, nay, God wot, all be he monk or frere, Priest or canon, or any other wight; Though he sit at his book both day and night; In learning of this *elvish nice* lore, * fantastic, foolish All is in vain; and pardie muche more, Is to learn a lew’d* man this subtlety; *ignorant Fie! speak not thereof, for it will not be. And *conne he letterure,* or conne he none, *if he knows learning* As in effect, he shall it find all one; For bothe two, by my salvation, Concluden in multiplication* *transmutation by alchemy Alike well, when they have all y-do; This is to say, they faile bothe two. Yet forgot I to make rehearsale Of waters corrosive, and of limaile,* *metal filings And of bodies’ mollification, And also of their induration, Oiles, ablutions, metal fusible, To tellen all, would passen any Bible That owhere* is; wherefore, as for the best, *anywhere Of all these names now will I me rest; For, as I trow, I have you told enough To raise a fiend, all look he ne’er so rough.

Ah! nay, let be; the philosopher’s stone, Elixir call’d, we seeke fast each one; For had we him, then were we sicker* enow; *secure But unto God of heaven I make avow,* *confession For all our craft, when we have all y-do, And all our sleight, he will not come us to. He hath y-made us spende muche good, For sorrow of which almost we waxed wood,* *mad But that good hope creeped in our heart, Supposing ever, though we sore smart, To be relieved by him afterward. Such supposing and hope is sharp and hard. I warn you well it is to seeken ever. That future temps* hath made men dissever,** *time **part from In trust thereof, from all that ever they had, Yet of that art they cannot waxe sad,* *repentant For unto them it is a bitter sweet; So seemeth it; for had they but a sheet Which that they mighte wrap them in at night, And a bratt* to walk in by dayelight, *cloak<10> They would them sell, and spend it on this craft; They cannot stint,* until no thing be laft. *cease And evermore, wherever that they gon, Men may them knowe by smell of brimstone; For all the world they stinken as a goat; Their savour is so rammish and so hot, That though a man a mile from them be, The savour will infect him, truste me. Lo, thus by smelling and threadbare array, If that men list, this folk they knowe may. And if a man will ask them privily, Why they be clothed so unthriftily,* *shabbily They right anon will rownen* in his ear, *whisper And sayen, if that they espied were, Men would them slay, because of their science: Lo, thus these folk betrayen innocence!

Pass over this; I go my tale unto. Ere that the pot be on the fire y-do* *placed Of metals, with a certain quantity My lord them tempers,* and no man but he *adjusts the proportions (Now he is gone, I dare say boldely); For as men say, he can do craftily, Algate* I wot well he hath such a name, *although And yet full oft he runneth into blame; And know ye how? full oft it happ’neth so, The pot to-breaks, and farewell! all is go’.* *gone These metals be of so great violence, Our walles may not make them resistence, *But if* they were wrought of lime and stone; *unless* They pierce so, that through the wall they gon; And some of them sink down into the ground (Thus have we lost by times many a pound), And some are scatter’d all the floor about; Some leap into the roof withoute doubt. Though that the fiend not in our sight him show, I trowe that he be with us, that shrew;* *impious wretch In helle, where that he is lord and sire, Is there no more woe, rancour, nor ire. When that our pot is broke, as I have said, Every man chides, and holds him *evil apaid.* *dissatisfied* Some said it was *long on* the fire-making; *because of <11>* Some saide nay, it was on the blowing (Then was I fear’d, for that was mine office); “Straw!” quoth the third, “ye be *lewed and **nice, *ignorant **foolish It was not temper’d* as it ought to be.” *mixed in due proportions “Nay,” quoth the fourthe, “stint* and hearken me; *stop Because our fire was not y-made of beech, That is the cause, and other none, *so the’ch.* *so may I thrive* I cannot tell whereon it was along, But well I wot great strife is us among.” “What?” quoth my lord, “there is no more to do’n, Of these perils I will beware eftsoon.* *another time I am right sicker* that the pot was crazed.** *sure **cracked Be as be may, be ye no thing amazed.* *confounded As usage is, let sweep the floor as swithe;* *quickly Pluck up your heartes and be glad and blithe.”

The mullok* on a heap y-sweeped was, *rubbish And on the floor y-cast a canevas, And all this mullok in a sieve y-throw, And sifted, and y-picked many a throw.* *time “Pardie,” quoth one, “somewhat of our metal Yet is there here, though that we have not all. And though this thing *mishapped hath as now,* *has gone amiss Another time it may be well enow. at present* We muste *put our good in adventure; * *risk our property* A merchant, pardie, may not aye endure, Truste me well, in his prosperity: Sometimes his good is drenched* in the sea, *drowned, sunk And sometimes comes it safe unto the land.” “Peace,” quoth my lord; “the next time I will fand* *endeavour To bring our craft *all in another plight,* *to a different conclusion* And but I do, Sirs, let me have the wite;* *blame There was default in somewhat, well I wot.” Another said, the fire was over hot. But be it hot or cold, I dare say this, That we concluden evermore amiss; We fail alway of that which we would have; And in our madness evermore we rave. And when we be together every one, Every man seemeth a Solomon. But all thing, which that shineth as the gold, It is not gold, as I have heard it told; Nor every apple that is fair at eye, It is not good, what so men clap* or cry. *assert Right so, lo, fareth it amonges us. He that the wisest seemeth, by Jesus, Is most fool, when it cometh to the prefe;* *proof, test And he that seemeth truest, is a thief. That shall ye know, ere that I from you wend; By that I of my tale have made an end.

There was a canon of religioun Amonges us, would infect* all a town, *deceive Though it as great were as was Nineveh, Rome, Alisandre,* Troy, or other three. *Alexandria His sleightes* and his infinite falseness *cunning tricks There coulde no man writen, as I guess, Though that he mighte live a thousand year; In all this world of falseness n’is* his peer. *there is not For in his termes he will him so wind, And speak his wordes in so sly a kind, When he commune shall with any wight, That he will make him doat* anon aright, *become foolishly But it a fiende be, as himself is. fond of him* Full many a man hath he beguil’d ere this, And will, if that he may live any while; And yet men go and ride many a mile Him for to seek, and have his acquaintance, Not knowing of his false governance.* *deceitful conduct And if you list to give me audience, I will it telle here in your presence. But, worshipful canons religious, Ne deeme not that I slander your house, Although that my tale of a canon be. Of every order some shrew is, pardie; And God forbid that all a company Should rue a singular* manne’s folly. *individual To slander you is no thing mine intent; But to correct that is amiss I meant. This tale was not only told for you, But eke for other more; ye wot well how That amonges Christe’s apostles twelve There was no traitor but Judas himselve; Then why should all the remenant have blame, That guiltless were? By you I say the same. Save only this, if ye will hearken me, If any Judas in your convent be, Remove him betimes, I you rede,* *counsel If shame or loss may causen any dread. And be no thing displeased, I you pray; But in this case hearken what I say.

In London was a priest, an annualere, <12> That therein dwelled hadde many a year, Which was so pleasant and so serviceable Unto the wife, where as he was at table, That she would suffer him no thing to pay For board nor clothing, went he ne’er so gay; And spending silver had he right enow; Thereof no force;* will proceed as now, *no matter And telle forth my tale of the canon, That brought this prieste to confusion. This false canon came upon a day Unto the prieste’s chamber, where he lay, Beseeching him to lend him a certain Of gold, and he would quit it him again. “Lend me a mark,” quoth he, “but dayes three, And at my day I will it quite thee. And if it so be that thou find me false, Another day hang me up by the halse.”* *neck This priest him took a mark, and that as swithe,* *quickly And this canon him thanked often sithe,* *times And took his leave, and wente forth his way; And at the thirde day brought his money; And to the priest he took his gold again, Whereof this priest was wondrous glad and fain.* *pleased “Certes,” quoth he, *“nothing annoyeth me* *I am not unwiling* To lend a man a noble, or two, or three, Or what thing were in my possession, When he so true is of condition, That in no wise he breake will his day; To such a man I never can say nay.” “What,” quoth this canon, “should I be untrue? Nay, that were *thing y-fallen all of new!* *a new thing to happen* Truth is a thing that I will ever keep, Unto the day in which that I shall creep Into my grave; and elles God forbid; Believe this as sicker* as your creed. *sure God thank I, and in good time be it said, That there was never man yet *evil apaid* *displeased, dissatisfied* For gold nor silver that he to me lent, Nor ever falsehood in mine heart I meant. And Sir,” quoth he, “now of my privity, Since ye so goodly have been unto me, And kithed* to me so great gentleness, *shown Somewhat, to quite with your kindeness, I will you shew, and if you list to lear,* *learn I will you teache plainly the mannere How I can worken in philosophy. Take good heed, ye shall well see *at eye* *with your own eye* That I will do a mas’try ere I go.” “Yea,” quoth the priest; “yea, Sir, and will ye so? Mary! thereof I pray you heartily.” “At your commandement, Sir, truely,” Quoth the canon, “and elles God forbid.” Lo, how this thiefe could his service bede!* *offer

Full sooth it is that such proffer’d service Stinketh, as witnesse *these olde wise;* *those wise folk of old* And that full soon I will it verify In this canon, root of all treachery, That evermore delight had and gladness (Such fiendly thoughtes *in his heart impress*) *press into his heart* How Christe’s people he may to mischief bring. God keep us from his false dissimuling! What wiste this priest with whom that he dealt? Nor of his harm coming he nothing felt. O sely* priest, O sely innocent! *simple With covetise anon thou shalt be blent;* *blinded; beguiled O graceless, full blind is thy conceit! For nothing art thou ware of the deceit Which that this fox y-shapen* hath to thee; *contrived His wily wrenches* thou not mayest flee. *snares Wherefore, to go to the conclusioun That referreth to thy confusion, Unhappy man, anon I will me hie* *hasten To telle thine unwit* and thy folly, *stupidity And eke the falseness of that other wretch, As farforth as that my conning* will stretch. *knowledge This canon was my lord, ye woulde ween;* *imagine Sir Host, in faith, and by the heaven’s queen, It was another canon, and not he, That can* an hundred fold more subtlety. *knows He hath betrayed folkes many a time; Of his falseness it doleth* me to rhyme. *paineth And ever, when I speak of his falsehead, For shame of him my cheekes waxe red; Algates* they beginne for to glow, *at least For redness have I none, right well I know, In my visage; for fumes diverse Of metals, which ye have me heard rehearse, Consumed have and wasted my redness. Now take heed of this canon’s cursedness.* *villainy

“Sir,” quoth he to the priest, “let your man gon For quicksilver, that we it had anon; And let him bringen ounces two or three; And when he comes, as faste shall ye see A wondrous thing, which ye saw ne’er ere this.” “Sir,” quoth the priest, “it shall be done, y-wis.”* *certainly He bade his servant fetche him this thing, And he all ready was at his bidding, And went him forth, and came anon again With this quicksilver, shortly for to sayn; And took these ounces three to the canoun; And he them laide well and fair adown, And bade the servant coales for to bring, That he anon might go to his working. The coales right anon weren y-fet,* *fetched And this canon y-took a crosselet* *crucible Out of his bosom, and shew’d to the priest. “This instrument,” quoth he, “which that thou seest, Take in thine hand, and put thyself therein Of this quicksilver an ounce, and here begin, In the name of Christ, to wax a philosopher. There be full few, which that I woulde proffer To shewe them thus much of my science; For here shall ye see by experience That this quicksilver I will mortify,<13> Right in your sight anon withoute lie, And make it as good silver, and as fine, As there is any in your purse, or mine, Or elleswhere; and make it malleable, And elles holde me false and unable Amonge folk for ever to appear. I have a powder here that cost me dear, Shall make all good, for it is cause of all My conning,* which that I you shewe shall. *knowledge Voide* your man, and let him be thereout; *send away And shut the doore, while we be about Our privity, that no man us espy, While that we work in this phiosophy.” All, as he bade, fulfilled was in deed. This ilke servant right anon out yede,* *went And his master y-shut the door anon, And to their labour speedily they gon.