The Canterbury Tales, and Other Poems
That certain years bears apples three;
Which three apples whoso may have,
Is *from all displeasance y-save* *safe from all pain*
That in the seven years may fall;
This wot you well, both one and all.
For the first apple and the hext,* *highest <3>
Which groweth unto you the next,
Hath three virtues notable,
And keepeth youth ay durable,
Beauty, and looks, ever-in-one,* *continually
And is the best of ev’ry one.
The second apple, red and green,
Only with lookes of your eyne,
You nourishes in great pleasance,
Better than partridge or fesaunce,* *pheasant
And feedeth ev’ry living wight
Pleasantly, only with the sight.
And the third apple of the three,
Which groweth lowest on the tree,
Whoso it beareth may not fail* *miss, fail to obtain
That* to his pleasance may avail. *that which
So your pleasure and beauty rich,
Your during youth ever y-lich,* *alike
Your truth, your cunning,* and your weal, *knowledge
Hath flower’d ay, and your good heal,
Without sickness or displeasance,
Or thing that to you was noyance.* *offence, injury
So that you have as goddesses
Lived above all princesses.
Now is befall’n, as ye may see;
To gather these said apples three,
I have not fail’d, against the day,
Thitherward to take the way,
*Weening to speed* as I had oft. *expecting to succeed*
But when I came, I found aloft
My sister, which that hero stands,
Having those apples in her hands,
Advising* them, and nothing said, *regarding, gazing on
But look’d as she were *well apaid:* *satisfied*
And as I stood her to behold,
Thinking how my joys were cold,
Since I these apples *have not might,* *might not have*
Even with that so came this knight,
And in his arms, of me unware,
Me took, and to his ship me bare,
And said, though him I ne’er had seen,
Yet had I long his lady been;
Wherefore I shoulde with him wend,
And he would, to his life’s end,
My servant be; and gan to sing,
As one that had won a rich thing.
Then were my spirits from me gone,
So suddenly every one,
That in me appear’d but death,
For I felt neither life nor breath,
Nor good nor harme none I knew,
The sudden pain me was so new,
That *had not the hasty grace be* *had it not been for the
Of this lady, that from the tree prompt kindness*
Of her gentleness so bled,* *hastened
Me to comforten, I had died;
And of her three apples she one
Into mine hand there put anon,
Which brought again my mind and breath,
And me recover’d from the death.
Wherefore to her so am I hold,* *beholden, obliged
That for her all things do I wo’ld,
For she was leach* of all my smart, *physician
And from great pain so quit* my heart. *delivered
And as God wot, right as ye hear,
Me to comfort with friendly cheer,
She did her prowess and her might.
And truly eke so did this knight,
In that he could; and often said,
That of my woe he was *ill paid,* *distressed, ill-pleased*
And curs’d the ship that him there brought,
The mast, the master that it wrought.
And, as each thing must have an end,
My sister here, our bother friend, <4>
Gan with her words so womanly
This knight entreat, and cunningly,
For mine honour and hers also,
And said that with her we should go
Both in her ship, where she was brought,
Which was so wonderfully wrought,
So clean, so rich, and so array’d,
That we were both content and paid;* *satisfied
And me to comfort and to please,
And my heart for to put at ease,
She took great pain in little while,
And thus hath brought us to this isle
As ye may see; wherefore each one
I pray you thank her one and one,
As heartily as ye can devise,
Or imagine in any wise.”
At once there then men mighte see’n,
A world of ladies fall on kneen
Before my lady, —
Thanking her, and placing themselves at her commandment.
Then the queen sent the aged lady to the knight, to learn of him
why he had done her all this woe; and when the messenger had
discharged her mission, telling the knight that in the general
opinion he had done amiss, he fell down suddenly as if dead for
sorrow and repentance. Only with great difficulty, by the queen
herself, was he restored to consciousness and comfort; but
though she spoke kind and hope-inspiring words, her heart was
not in her speech,
For her intent was, to his barge
Him for to bring against the eve,
With certain ladies, and take leave,
And pray him, of his gentleness,
To *suffer her* thenceforth in peace, *let her dwell*
As other princes had before;
And from thenceforth, for evermore,
She would him worship in all wise
That gentlenesse might devise;
And *pain her* wholly to fulfil, *make her utmost efforts*
In honour, his pleasure and will.
And during thus this knighte’s woe, —
Present* the queen and other mo’, *(there being) present*
My lady and many another wight, —
Ten thousand shippes at a sight
I saw come o’er the wavy flood,
With sail and oar; that, as I stood
Them to behold, I gan marvail
From whom might come so many a sail;
For, since the time that I was born,
Such a navy therebeforn
Had I not seen, nor so array’d,
That for the sight my hearte play’d
Ay to and fro within my breast;
For joy long was ere it would rest.
For there were sailes *full of flow’rs;* *embroidered with flowers*
After, castles with huge tow’rs, <5>
Seeming full of armes bright,
That wond’rous lusty* was the sight; *pleasant
With large tops, and mastes long,
Richly depaint’ and *rear’d among.* *raised among them*
At certain times gan repair
Smalle birdes down from the air,
And on the shippes’ bounds* about *bulwarks
Sat and sang, with voice full out,
Ballads and lays right joyously,
As they could in their harmony.
The ladies were alarmed and sorrow-stricken at sight of the
ships, thinking that the knight’s companions were on board; and
they went towards the walls of the isle, to shut the gates. But it
was Cupid who came; and he had already landed, and marched
straight to the place where the knight lay. Then he chid the
queen for her unkindness to his servant; shot an arrow into her
heart; and passed through the crowd, until he found the poet’s
lady, whom he saluted and complimented, urging her to have
pity on him that loved her. While the poet, standing apart, was
revolving all this in his mind, and resolving truly to serve his
lady, he saw the queen advance to Cupid, with a petition in
which she besought forgiveness of past offences, and promised
continual and zealous service till her death. Cupid smiled, and
said that he would be king within that island, his new conquest;
then, after long conference with the queen, he called a council
for the morrow, of all who chose to wear his colours. In the
morning, such was the press of ladies, that scarcely could
standing-room be found in all the plain. Cupid presided; and one
of his counsellors addressed the mighty crowd, promising that
ere his departure his lord should bring to an agreement all the
parties there present. Then Cupid gave to the knight and the
dreamer each his lady; promised his favour to all the others in
that place who would truly and busily serve in love; and at
evening took his departure. Next morning, having declined the
proffered sovereignty of the island, the poet’s mistress also
embarked, leaving him behind; but he dashed through the
waves, was drawn on board her ship from peril of death, and
graciously received into his lady’s lasting favour. Here the poet
awakes, finding his cheeks and body all wet with tears; and,
removing into another chamber, to rest more in peace, he falls
asleep anew, and continues the dream. Again he is within the
island, where the knight and all the ladies are assembled on a
green, and it is resolved by the assembly, not only that the
knight shall be their king, but that every lady there shall be
wedded also. It is determined that the knight shall depart that
very day, and return, within ten days, with such a host of
Benedicts, that none in the isle need lack husbands. The knight
Anon into a little barge
Brought was, late against an eve,
Where of all he took his leave.
Which barge was, as a man thought,
Aft* his pleasure to him brought; *according to*
The queen herself accustom’d ay
In the same barge to play.* *take her sport
It needed neither mast nor rother* *rudder
(I have not heard of such another),
Nor master for the governance;* *steering
It sailed by thought and pleasance,
Withoute labour, east and west;
All was one, calm or tempest. <6>
And I went with, at his request,
And was the first pray’d to the feast.* *the bridal feast
When he came unto his country,
And passed had the wavy sea,
In a haven deep and large
He left his rich and noble barge,
And to the court, shortly to tell,
He went, where he was wont to dwell, —
And was gladly received as king by the estates of the land; for
during his absence his father, “old, and wise, and hoar,” had
died, commending to their fidelity his absent son. The prince
related to the estates his journey, and his success in finding the
princess in quest of whom he had gone seven years before; and
said that he must have sixty thousand guests at his marriage
feast. The lords gladly guaranteed the number within the set
time; but afterwards they found that fifteen days must be spent
in the necessary preparations. Between shame and sorrow, the
prince, thus compelled to break his faith, took to his bed, and,
in wailing and self-reproach,
— Endur’d the days fifteen,
Till that the lords, on an evene,* *evening
Him came and told they ready were,
And showed in few wordes there,
How and what wise they had *purvey’d *provided suitably
For his estate,* and to him said, to his rank*
That twenty thousand knights of name,
And forty thousand without blame,
Alle come of noble ligne* *line, lineage
Together in a company
Were lodged on a river’s side,
Him and his pleasure there t’abide.
The prince then for joy uprose,
And, where they lodged were, he goes,
Withoute more, that same night,
And there his supper *made to dight;* *had prepared*
And with them bode* till it was day. *abode, waited*
And forthwith to take his journey,
Leaving the strait, holding the large,
Till he came to his noble barge:
And when the prince, this lusty knight,
With his people in armes bright,
Was come where he thought to pass,* *cross to the isle
And knew well none abiding was
Behind, but all were there present,
Forthwith anon all his intent
He told them there, and made his cries* *proclamation
Thorough his hoste that day twice,
Commanding ev’ry living wight
There being present in his sight,
To be the morrow on the rivage,* *shore
There he begin would his voyage.
The morrow come, the *cry was kept* *proclamation was obeyed*
But few were there that night that slept,
But *truss’d and purvey’d* for the morrow; *packed up and provided*
For fault* of ships was all their sorrow; *lack, shortage
For, save the barge, and other two,
Of shippes there I saw no mo’.