The Canterbury Tales, and Other Poems
“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,