‘THE MINOR POEMS’ IN VOL. I. (continued 9)

For goddes sake, as beth of bettre chere, It is no tyme for to studien here. Telle us som mery tale, by your fey; 10 For what man that is entred in a pley, He nedes moot unto the pley assente. But precheth nat, as freres doon in Lente, To make us for our olde sinnes wepe, Ne that thy tale make us nat to slepe. 15 Telle us som mery thing of aventures;— Your termes, your colours, and your figures, Kepe hem in stoor til so be ye endyte Heigh style, as whan that men to kinges wryte. Speketh so pleyn at this tyme, I yow preye, 20 That we may understonde what ye seye.’

This worthy clerk benignely answerde, ‘Hoste,’ quod he, ‘I am under your yerde; Ye han of us as now the governaunce, And therfor wol I do yow obeisaunce, 25 As fer as reson axeth, hardily. I wol yow telle a tale which that I Lerned at Padowe of a worthy clerk, As preved by his wordes and his werk. He is now deed and nayled in his cheste, 30 I prey to god so yeve his soule reste!

Fraunceys Petrark, the laureat poete, Highte this clerk, whos rethoryke sweete Enlumined al Itaille of poetrye, As Linian dide of philosophye 35 Or lawe, or other art particuler; But deeth, that wol nat suffre us dwellen heer But as it were a twinkling of an yë, Hem bothe hath slayn, and alle shul we dyë.

But forth to tellen of this worthy man, 40 That taughte me this tale, as I bigan, I seye that first with heigh style he endyteth, Er he the body of his tale wryteth, A proheme, in the which discryveth he Pemond, and of Saluces the contree, 45 And speketh of Apennyn, the hilles hye, That been the boundes of West Lumbardye, And of Mount Vesulus in special, Where as the Poo, out of a welle smal, Taketh his firste springing and his sours, 50 That estward ay encresseth in his cours To Emelward, to Ferrare, and Venyse: The which a long thing were to devyse. And trewely, as to my Iugement, Me thinketh it a thing impertinent, 55 Save that he wol convey en his matere: But this his tale, which that ye may here.’

Here biginneth the Tale of the Clerk of Oxenford. Ther is, at the west syde of Itaille, Doun at the rote of Vesulus the colde, A lusty playne, habundant of vitaille, 60 Wher many a tour and toun thou mayst biholde, That founded were in tyme of fadres olde, And many another delitable sighte, And Saluces this noble contree highte. A markis whylom lord was of that londe, 65 As were his worthy eldres him bifore; (10) And obeisant and redy to his honde Were alle his liges, bothe lasse and more. Thus in delyt he liveth, and hath don yore, Biloved and drad, thurgh favour of fortune, 70 Bothe of his lordes and of his commune. Therwith he was, to speke as of linage, The gentilleste y-born of Lumbardye, A fair persone, and strong, and yong of age, And ful of honour and of curteisye; 75 Discreet y-nogh his contree for to gye, (20) Save in somme thinges that he was to blame, And Walter was this yonge lordes name.

I blame him thus, that he considereth noght In tyme cominge what mighte him bityde, 80 But on his lust present was al his thoght, As for to hauke and hunte on every syde; Wel ny alle othere cures leet he slyde, And eek he nolde, and that was worst of alle, Wedde no wyf, for noght that may bifalle.

85 Only that point his peple bar so sore, (30) That flokmele on a day they to him wente, And oon of hem, that wysest was of lore, Or elles that the lord best wolde assente That he sholde telle him what his peple mente, 90 Or elles coude he shewe wel swich matere, He to the markis seyde as ye shul here. ‘O noble markis, your humanitee Assureth us and yeveth us hardinesse, As ofte as tyme is of necessitee 95 That we to yow mowe telle our hevinesse; (40) Accepteth, lord, now for your gentillesse, That we with pitous herte un-to yow pleyne, And lete your eres nat my voys disdeyne.

Al have I noght to done in this matere 100 More than another man hath in this place, Yet for as muche as ye, my lord so dere, Han alwey shewed me favour and grace, I dar the better aske of yow a space Of audience, to shewen our requeste, 105 And ye, my lord, to doon right as yow leste.

(50) For certes, lord, so wel us lyketh yow And al your werk and ever han doon, that we Ne coude nat us self devysen how We mighte liven in more felicitee, 110 Save o thing, lord, if it your wille be, That for to been a wedded man yow leste, Than were your peple in sovereyn hertes reste.

Boweth your nekke under that blisful yok Of soveraynetee, noght of servyse, 115 Which that men clepeth spousaille or wedlok; (60) And thenketh, lord, among your thoghtes wyse, How that our dayes passe in sondry wyse; For though we slepe or wake, or rome, or ryde, Ay fleeth the tyme, it nil no man abyde. 120 And though your grene youthe floure as yit, In crepeth age alwey, as stille as stoon, And deeth manaceth every age, and smit In ech estaat, for ther escapeth noon: And al so certein as we knowe echoon 125 That we shul deye, as uncerteyn we alle (70) Been of that day whan deeth shal on us falle. Accepteth than of us the trewe entente, That never yet refuseden your heste, And we wol, lord, if that ye wol assente, 130 Chese yow a wyf in short tyme, atte leste, Born of the gentilleste and of the meste Of al this lond, so that it oghte seme Honour to god and yow, as we can deme.

Deliver us out of al this bisy drede, 135 And tak a wyf, for hye goddes sake; (80) For if it so bifelle, as god forbede, That thurgh your deeth your linage sholde slake, And that a straunge successour sholde take Your heritage, o! wo were us alyve! 140 Wherfor we pray you hastily to wyve.’

Hir meke preyere and hir pitous chere Made the markis herte han pitee. ‘Ye wol,’ quod he, ‘myn owene peple dere, To that I never erst thoghte streyne me. 145 I me reioysed of my libertee, (90) That selde tyme is founde in mariage; Ther I was free, I moot been in servage.

But nathelees I see your trewe entente, And truste upon your wit, and have don ay; 150 Wherfor of my free wil I wol assente To wedde me, as sone as ever I may. But ther-as ye han profred me to-day To chese me a wyf, I yow relesse That choys, and prey yow of that profre cesse.

155 For god it woot, that children ofte been (100) Unlyk her worthy eldres hem bifore; Bountee comth al of god, nat of the streen Of which they been engendred and y-bore; I truste in goddes bountee, and therfore 160 My mariage and myn estaat and reste I him bitake; he may don as him leste. Lat me alone in chesinge of my wyf, That charge up-on my bak I wol endure; But I yow preye, and charge up-on your lyf, 165 That what wyf that I take, ye me assure (110) To worshipe hir, whyl that hir lyf may dure, In word and werk, bothe here and everywhere, As she an emperoures doghter were.

And forthermore, this shal ye swere, that ye 170 Agayn my choys shul neither grucche ne stryve; For sith I shal forgoon my libertee At your requeste, as ever moot I thryve, Ther as myn herte is set, ther wol I wyve; And but ye wole assente in swich manere, 175 I prey yow, speketh na-more of this matere.’

(120) With hertly wil they sworen, and assenten To al this thing, ther seyde no wight nay; Bisekinge him of grace, er that they wenten, That he wolde graunten hem a certein day 180 Of his spousaille, as sone as ever he may; For yet alwey the peple som-what dredde Lest that this markis no wyf wolde wedde. He graunted hem a day, swich as him leste, On which he wolde be wedded sikerly, 185 And seyde, he dide al this at hir requeste; (130) And they, with humble entente, buxomly, Knelinge up-on her knees ful reverently Him thanken alle, and thus they han an ende Of hir entente, and hoom agayn they wende. 190 And heer-up-on he to his officeres Comaundeth for the feste to purveye, And to his privee knightes and squyeres Swich charge yaf, as him liste on hem leye; And they to his comandement obeye, 195 And ech of hem doth al his diligence (140) To doon un-to the feste reverence. Explicit prima pars. Incipit secunda pars. Noght fer fro thilke paleys honurable Ther-as this markis shoop his mariage, Ther stood a throp, of site delitable, 200 In which that povre folk of that village Hadden hir bestes and hir herbergage, And of hir labour took hir sustenance After that the erthe yaf hem habundance.

Amonges thise povre folk ther dwelte a man 205 Which that was holden povrest of hem alle; (150) But hye god som tyme senden can His grace in-to a litel oxes stalle: Ianicula men of that throp him calle. A doghter hadde he, fair y-nogh to sighte, 210 And Grisildis this yonge mayden highte.

But for to speke of vertuous beautee, Than was she oon the faireste under sonne; For povreliche y-fostred up was she, No likerous lust was thurgh hir herte y-ronne; 215 Wel ofter of the welle than of the tonne (160) She drank, and for she wolde vertu plese, She knew wel labour, but non ydel ese.

But thogh this mayde tendre were of age, Yet in the brest of hir virginitee 220 Ther was enclosed rype and sad corage; And in greet reverence and charitee Hir olde povre fader fostred she; A fewe sheep spinning on feeld she kepte, She wolde noght been ydel til she slepte. 225 And whan she hoomward cam, she wolde bringe (170) Wortes or othere herbes tymes ofte, The whiche she shredde and seeth for hir livinge, And made hir bed ful harde and no-thing softe; And ay she kepte hir fadres lyf on-lofte 230 With everich obeisaunce and diligence That child may doon to fadres reverence. Up-on Grisilde, this povre creature, Ful ofte sythe this markis sette his yë As he on hunting rood paraventure; 235 And whan it fil that he mighte hir espye, (180) He noght with wantoun loking of folye His yën caste on hir, but in sad wyse Up-on hir chere he wolde him ofte avyse,

Commending in his herte hir wommanhede, 240 And eek hir vertu, passing any wight Of so yong age, as wel in chere as dede. For thogh the peple have no greet insight In vertu, he considered ful right Hir bountee, and disposed that he wolde 245 Wedde hir only, if ever he wedde sholde.

(190) The day of wedding cam, but no wight can Telle what womman that it sholde be; For which merveille wondred many a man, And seyden, whan they were in privetee, 250 ‘Wol nat our lord yet leve his vanitee? Wol he nat wedde? allas, allas the whyle! Why wol he thus him-self and us bigyle?’

But natheles this markis hath don make Of gemmes, set in gold and in asure, 255 Broches and ringes, for Grisildis sake, (200) And of hir clothing took he the mesure By a mayde, lyk to hir stature, And eek of othere ornamentes alle That un-to swich a wedding sholde falle.

360 The tyme of undern of the same day Approcheth, that this wedding sholde be; And al the paleys put was in array, Bothe halle and chambres, ech in his degree; Houses of office stuffed with plentee 265 Ther maystow seen of deyntevous vitaille, (210) That may be founde, as fer as last Itaille. This royal markis, richely arrayed, Lordes and ladyes in his companye, The whiche unto the feste were y-prayed, 270 And of his retenue the bachelrye, With many a soun of sondry melodye, Un-to the village, of the which I tolde, In this array the righte wey han holde.

Grisilde of this, god woot, ful innocent, 275 That for hir shapen was al this array, (220) To fecchen water at a welle is went, And cometh hoom as sone as ever she may. For wel she hadde herd seyd, that thilke day The markis sholde wedde, and, if she mighte, 280 She wolde fayn han seyn som of that sighte. She thoghte, ‘I wol with othere maydens stonde, That been my felawes, in our dore, and see The markisesse, and therfor wol I fonde To doon at hoom, as sone as it may be, 285 The labour which that longeth un-to me; (230) And than I may at leyser hir biholde, If she this wey un-to the castel holde.’ And as she wolde over hir threshfold goon, The markis cam and gan hir for to calle; 290 And she sette doun hir water-pot anoon Bisyde the threshfold, in an oxes stalle, And doun up-on hir knees she gan to falle, And with sad contenance kneleth stille Til she had herd what was the lordes wille. 295 This thoghtful markis spak un-to this mayde (240) Ful sobrely, and seyde in this manere, ‘Wher is your fader, Grisildis?’ he sayde, And she with reverence, in humble chere, Answerde, ‘lord, he is al redy here.’ 300 And in she gooth with-outen lenger lette, And to the markis she hir fader fette.

He by the hond than took this olde man, And seyde thus, whan he him hadde asyde, ‘Ianicula, I neither may ne can 305 Lenger the plesance of myn herte hyde. (250) If that thou vouche-sauf, what-so bityde, Thy doghter wol I take, er that I wende, As for my wyf, un-to hir lyves ende.

Thou lovest me, I woot it wel, certeyn, 310 And art my feithful lige man y-bore; And al that lyketh me, I dar wel seyn It lyketh thee, and specially therfore Tel me that poynt that I have seyd bifore, If that thou wolt un-to that purpos drawe, 315 To take me as for thy sone-in-lawe?’ (260) This sodeyn cas this man astoned so, That reed he wex, abayst, and al quaking He stood unnethes seyde he wordes mo, But only thus: ‘lord,’ quod he, ‘my willing 320 Is as ye wole, ne ayeines your lyking I wol no-thing; ye be my lord so dere; Right as yow lust governeth this matere.’

‘Yet wol I,’ quod this markis softely, ‘That in thy chambre I and thou and she 325 Have a collacion, and wostow why? (270) For I wol axe if it hir wille be To be my wyf, and reule hir after me; And al this shal be doon in thy presence, I wol noght speke out of thyn audience.’ 330 And in the chambre whyl they were aboute Hir tretis, which as ye shal after here, The peple cam un-to the hous with-oute, And wondred hem in how honest manere And tentifly she kepte hir fader dere. 335 But outerly Grisildis wondre mighte, (280) For never erst ne saugh she swich a sighte. No wonder is thogh that she were astoned To seen so greet a gest come in that place; She never was to swiche gestes woned, 340 For which she loked with ful pale face. But shortly forth this tale for to chace, Thise arn the wordes that the markis sayde To this benigne verray feithful mayde.

‘Grisilde,’ he seyde, ‘ye shul wel understonde 345 It lyketh to your fader and to me (290) That I yow wedde, and eek it may so stonde, As I suppose, ye wol that it so be. But thise demandes axe I first,’ quod he, ‘That, sith it shal be doon in hastif wyse, 350 Wol ye assente, or elles yow avyse? I seye this, be ye redy with good herte To al my lust, and that I frely may, As me best thinketh, do yow laughe or smerte, And never ye to grucche it, night ne day? 355 And eek whan I sey “ye,” ne sey nat “nay,” (300) Neither by word ne frowning contenance; Swer this, and here I swere our alliance.’

Wondring upon this word, quaking for drede, She seyde, ‘lord, undigne and unworthy 360 Am I to thilke honour that ye me bede; But as ye wol your-self, right so wol I. And heer I swere that never willingly In werk ne thoght I nil yow disobeye, For to be deed, though me were looth to deye.’ 365 ‘This is y-nogh, Grisilde myn!’ quod he. (310) And forth he gooth with a ful sobre chere Out at the dore, and after that cam she, And to the peple he seyde in this manere, ‘This is my wyf,’ quod he, ‘that standeth here. 370 Honoureth hir, and loveth hir, I preye, Who-so me loveth; ther is na-more to seye.’ And for that no-thing of hir olde gere She sholde bringe in-to his hous, he bad That wommen sholde dispoilen hir right there; 375 Of which thise ladyes were nat right glad (320) To handle hir clothes wher-in she was clad. But natheles this mayde bright of hewe Fro foot to heed they clothed han al newe. Hir heres han they kembd, that lay untressed 380 Ful rudely, and with hir fingres smale A corone on hir heed they han y-dressed, And sette hir ful of nowches grete and smale; Of hir array what sholde I make a tale? Unnethe the peple hir knew for hir fairnesse, 385 Whan she translated was in swich richesse.

(330) This markis hath hir spoused with a ring Broght for the same cause, and than hir sette Up-on an hors, snow-whyt and wel ambling, And to his paleys, er he lenger lette, 390 With Ioyful peple that hir ladde and mette, Conveyed hir, and thus the day they spende In revel, til the sonne gan descende. And shortly forth this tale for to chace, I seye that to this newe markisesse 395 God hath swich favour sent hir of his grace, (340) That it ne semed nat by lyklinesse That she was born and fed in rudenesse, As in a cote or in an oxe-stalle, But norished in an emperoures halle. 400 To every wight she woxen is so dere And worshipful, that folk ther she was bore And from hir birthe knewe hir yeer by yere, Unnethe trowed they, but dorste han swore That to Ianicle, of which I spak bifore, 405 She doghter nas, for, as by coniecture, (350) Hem thoughte she was another creature.

For thogh that ever vertuous was she, She was encressed in swich excellence Of thewes gode, y-set in heigh bountee, 410 And so discreet and fair of eloquence, So benigne and so digne of reverence, And coude so the peples herte embrace, That ech hir lovede that loked on hir face. Noght only of Saluces in the toun 415 Publiced was the bountee of hir name, (360) But eek bisyde in many a regioun, If oon seyde wel, another seyde the same; So spradde of hir heigh bountee the fame, That men and wommen, as wel yonge as olde, 420 Gon to Saluce, upon hir to biholde.

Thus Walter lowly, nay but royally, Wedded with fortunat honestetee, In goddes pees liveth ful esily At hoom, and outward grace y-nogh had he; 425 And for he saugh that under low degree (370) Was ofte vertu hid, the peple him helde A prudent man, and that is seyn ful selde.

Nat only this Grisildis thurgh hir wit Coude al the feet of wyfly hoomlinesse, 430 But eek, whan that the cas requyred it, The commune profit coude she redresse. Ther nas discord, rancour, ne hevinesse In al that lond, that she ne coude apese, And wysly bringe hem alle in reste and ese.

435 Though that hir housbonde absent were anoon, (380) If gentil men, or othere of hir contree Were wrothe, she wolde bringen hem atoon; So wyse and rype wordes hadde she, And Iugements of so greet equitee, 440 That she from heven sent was, as men wende, Peple to save and every wrong tamende.

Nat longe tyme after that this Grisild Was wedded, she a doughter hath y-bore, Al had hir lever have born a knave child. 445 Glad was this markis and the folk therfore; (390) For though a mayde child come al bifore, She may unto a knave child atteyne By lyklihed, sin she nis nat bareyne. Explicit secunda pars. Incipit tercia pars.

Ther fil, as it bifalleth tymes mo, 450 Whan that this child had souked but a throwe, This markis in his herte longeth so To tempte his wyf, hir sadnesse for to knowe, That he ne mighte out of his herte throwe This merveillous desyr, his wyf tassaye, 455 Needless, god woot, he thoughte hir for taffraye. (400) He hadde assayed hir y-nogh bifore, And fond hir ever good; what neded it Hir for to tempte and alwey more and more? Though som men preise it for a subtil wit, 460 But as for me, I seye that yvel it sit Tassaye a wyf whan that it is no nede, And putten her in anguish and in drede.

For which this markis wroghte in this manere; He cam alone a-night, ther as she lay, 465 With sterne face and with ful trouble chere, (410) And seyde thus, ‘Grisild,’ quod he, ‘that day That I yow took out of your povre array, And putte yow in estaat of heigh noblesse, Ye have nat that forgeten, as I gesse.

470 I seye, Grisild, this present dignitee, In which that I have put yow, as I trowe, Maketh yow nat foryetful for to be That I yow took in povre estaat ful lowe For any wele ye moot your-selven knowe. 475 Tak hede of every word that I yow seye, (420) Ther is no wight that hereth it but we tweye. Ye woot your-self wel, how that ye cam here In-to this hous, it is nat longe ago, And though to me that ye be lief and dere, 480 Un-to my gentils ye be no-thing so; They seyn, to hem it is greet shame and wo For to be subgets and ben in servage To thee, that born art of a smal village.

And namely, sith thy doghter was y-bore, 485 Thise wordes han they spoken doutelees; (430) But I desyre, as I have doon bifore, To live my lyf with hem in reste and pees; I may nat in this caas be recchelees. I moot don with thy doghter for the beste, 490 Nat as I wolde, but as my peple leste. And yet, god wot, this is ful looth to me; But nathelees with-oute your witing I wol nat doon, but this wol I,’ quod he, ‘That ye to me assente as in this thing. 495 Shewe now your pacience in your werking (440) That ye me highte and swore in your village That day that maked was our mariage.’ Whan she had herd al this, she noght ameved Neither in word, or chere, or countenaunce; 500 For, as it semed, she was nat agreved: She seyde, ‘lord, al lyth in your plesaunce, My child and I with hertly obeisaunce Ben youres al, and ye mowe save or spille Your owene thing; werketh after your wille.

505 Ther may no-thing, god so my soule save, (450) Lyken to yow that may displese me; Ne I desyre no-thing for to have, Ne drede for to lese, save only ye; This wil is in myn herte and ay shal be. 510 No lengthe of tyme or deeth may this deface, Ne chaunge my corage to another place.’

Glad was this markis of hir answering, But yet he feyned as he were nat so; Al drery was his chere and his loking 515 Whan that he sholde out of the chambre go. (460) Sone after this, a furlong wey or two, He prively hath told al his entente Un-to a man, and to his wyf him sente. A maner sergeant was this privee man, 520 The which that feithful ofte he founden hadde In thinges grete, and eek swich folk wel can Don execucioun on thinges badde. The lord knew wel that he him loved and dradde; And whan this sergeant wiste his lordes wille, 525 In-to the chambre he stalked him ful stille.

(470) ‘Madame,’ he seyde, ‘ye mote foryeve it me, Thogh I do thing to which I am constreyned; Ye ben so wys that ful wel knowe ye That lordes hestes mowe nat been y-feyned; 530 They mowe wel been biwailled or compleyned, But men mot nede un-to her lust obeye, And so wol I; ther is na-more to seye.

This child I am comanded for to take’— And spak na-more, but out the child he hente 535 Despitously, and gan a chere make (480) As though he wolde han slayn it er he wente. Grisildis mot al suffren and consente; And as a lamb she sitteth meke and stille, And leet this cruel sergeant doon his wille. 540 Suspecious was the diffame of this man, Suspect his face, suspect his word also; Suspect the tyme in which he this bigan. Allas! hir doghter that she lovede so She wende he wolde han slawen it right tho. 545 But natheles she neither weep ne syked, (490) Consenting hir to that the markis lyked. But atte laste speken she bigan, And mekely she to the sergeant preyde, So as he was a worthy gentil man, 550 That she moste kisse hir child er that it deyde; And in her barm this litel child she leyde With ful sad face, and gan the child to kisse And lulled it, and after gan it blisse.

And thus she seyde in hir benigne voys, 555 ‘Far weel, my child; I shal thee never see; (500) But, sith I thee have marked with the croys, Of thilke fader blessed mote thou be, That for us deyde up-on a croys of tree. Thy soule, litel child, I him bitake, 560 For this night shaltow dyen for my sake.’

I trowe that to a norice in this cas It had ben hard this rewthe for to se; Wel mighte a mooder than han cryed ‘allas!’ But nathelees so sad stedfast was she, 565 That she endured all adversitee, (510) And to the sergeant mekely she sayde, ‘Have heer agayn your litel yonge mayde.

Goth now,’ quod she, ‘and dooth my lordes heste, But o thing wol I preye yow of your grace, 570 That, but my lord forbad yow, atte leste Burieth this litel body in som place That bestes ne no briddes it to-race.’ But he no word wol to that purpos seye, But took the child and wente upon his weye.

575 This sergeant cam un-to his lord ageyn, (520) And of Grisildis wordes and hir chere He tolde him point for point, in short and playn, And him presenteth with his doghter dere. Somwhat this lord hath rewthe in his manere; 580 But nathelees his purpos heeld he stille, As lordes doon, whan they wol han hir wille; And bad his sergeant that he prively Sholde this child ful softe winde and wrappe With alle circumstances tendrely, 585 And carie it in a cofre or in a lappe; (530) But, up-on peyne his heed of for to swappe, That no man sholde knowe of his entente, Ne whenne he cam, ne whider that he wente;

But at Boloigne to his suster dere, 590 That thilke tyme of Panik was countesse, He sholde it take, and shewe hir this matere, Bisekinge hir to don hir bisinesse This child to fostre in alle gentilesse; And whos child that it was he bad hir hyde 595 From every wight, for oght that may bityde.

(540) The sergeant gooth, and hath fulfild this thing; But to this markis now retourne we; For now goth he ful faste imagining If by his wyves chere he mighte see, 600 Or by hir word aperceyve that she Were chaunged; but he never hir coude finde But ever in oon y-lyke sad and kinde. As glad, as humble, as bisy in servyse, And eek in love as she was wont to be, 605 Was she to him in every maner wyse; (550) Ne of hir doghter noght a word spak she. Non accident for noon adversitee Was seyn in hir, ne never hir doghter name Ne nempned she, in ernest nor in game. Explicit tercia pars. Sequitur pars quarta. 610 In this estaat ther passed been foure yeer Er she with childe was; but, as god wolde, A knave child she bar by this Walter, Ful gracious and fair for to biholde. And whan that folk it to his fader tolde, 615 Nat only he, but al his contree, merie (560) Was for this child, and god they thanke and herie.

Whan it was two yeer old, and fro the brest Departed of his norice, on a day This markis caughte yet another lest 620 To tempte his wyf yet ofter, if he may. O needles was she tempted in assay! But wedded men ne knowe no mesure, Whan that they finde a pacient creature. ‘Wyf,’ quod this markis, ‘ye han herd er this, 625 My peple sikly berth our mariage, (570) And namely, sith my sone y-boren is, Now is it worse than ever in al our age. The murmur sleeth myn herte and my corage; For to myne eres comth the voys so smerte, 630 That it wel ny destroyed hath myn herte.

Now sey they thus, “whan Walter is agoon, Then shal the blood of Ianicle succede And been our lord, for other have we noon;” Swiche wordes seith my peple, out of drede. 635 Wel oughte I of swich murmur taken hede; (580) For certeinly I drede swich sentence, Though they nat pleyn speke in myn audience. I wolde live in pees, if that I mighte; Wherfor I am disposed outerly, 640 As I his suster servede by nighte, Right so thenke I to serve him prively; This warne I yow, that ye nat sodeynly Out of your-self for no wo sholde outraye; Beth pacient, and ther-of I yow preye.’

645 ‘I have,’ quod she, ‘seyd thus, and ever shal, (590) I wol no thing, ne nil no thing, certayn, But as yow list; noght greveth me at al, Thogh that my doghter and my sone be slayn, At your comandement, this is to sayn. 650 I have noght had no part of children tweyne But first siknesse, and after wo and peyne. Ye been our lord, doth with your owene thing Right as yow list; axeth no reed at me. For, as I lefte at hoom al my clothing, 655 Whan I first cam to yow, right so,’ quod she, (600) ‘Left I my wil and al my libertee, And took your clothing; wherfor I yow preye, Doth your plesaunce, I wol your lust obeye. And certes, if I hadde prescience 660 Your wil to knowe er ye your lust me tolde, I wolde it doon with-outen necligence; But now I woot your lust and what ye wolde, Al your plesaunce ferme and stable I holde; For wiste I that my deeth wolde do yow ese, 665 Right gladly wolde I dyen, yow to plese. (610) Deth may noght make no comparisoun Un-to your love:’ and, whan this markis sey The constance of his wyf, he caste adoun His yën two, and wondreth that she may 670 In pacience suffre al this array. And forth he gooth with drery contenaunce, But to his herte it was ful greet plesaunce.

This ugly sergeant, in the same wyse That he hir doghter caughte, right so he, 675 Or worse, if men worse can devyse, (620) Hath hent hir sone, that ful was of beautee. And ever in oon so pacient was she, That she no chere made of hevinesse, But kiste hir sone, and after gan it blesse; 680 Save this; she preyed him that, if he mighte, Hir litel sone he wolde in erthe grave, His tendre limes, delicat to sighte, Fro foules and fro bestes for to save. But she non answer of him mighte have. 685 He wente his wey, as him no-thing ne roghte; (630) But to Boloigne he tendrely it broghte.

This markis wondreth ever lenger the more Up-on hir pacience, and if that he Ne hadde soothly knowen ther-bifore, 690 That parfitly hir children lovede she, He wolde have wend that of som subtiltee, And of malice or for cruel corage, That she had suffred this with sad visage.

But wel he knew that next him-self, certayn, 695 She loved hir children best in every wyse. (640) But now of wommen wolde I axen fayn, If thise assayes mighte nat suffyse? What coude a sturdy housbond more devyse To preve hir wyfhod and hir stedfastnesse, 700 And he continuing ever in sturdinesse?

But ther ben folk of swich condicioun, That, whan they have a certein purpos take, They can nat stinte of hir entencioun, But, right as they were bounden to a stake, 705 They wol nat of that firste purpos slake. (650) Right so this markis fulliche hath purposed To tempte his wyf, as he was first disposed.

He waiteth, if by word or contenance That she to him was changed of corage; 710 But never coude he finde variance; She was ay oon in herte and in visage; And ay the forther that she was in age, The more trewe, if that it were possible, She was to him in love, and more penible. 715 For which it semed thus, that of hem two (660) Ther nas but o wil; for, as Walter leste, The same lust was hir plesance also, And, god be thanked, al fil for the beste. She shewed wel, for no worldly unreste 720 A wyf, as of hir-self, no-thing ne sholde Wille in effect, but as hir housbond wolde. The sclaundre of Walter ofte and wyde spradde, That of a cruel herte he wikkedly, For he a povre womman wedded hadde, 725 Hath mordred bothe his children prively. (670) Swich murmur was among hem comunly. No wonder is, for to the peples ere Ther cam no word but that they mordred were. For which, wher-as his peple ther-bifore 730 Had loved him wel, the sclaundre of his diffame Made hem that they him hatede therfore; To been a mordrer is an hateful name. But natheles, for ernest ne for game He of his cruel purpos nolde stente; 735 To tempte his wyf was set al his entente.

(680) Whan that his doghter twelf yeer was of age, He to the court of Rome, in subtil wyse Enformed of his wil, sente his message, Comaunding hem swiche bulles to devyse 740 As to his cruel purpos may suffyse, How that the pope, as for his peples reste, Bad him to wedde another, if him leste.

I seye, he bad they sholde countrefete The popes bulles, making mencioun 745 That he hath leve his firste wyf to lete, (690) As by the popes dispensacioun, To stinte rancour and dissencioun Bitwixe his peple and him; thus seyde the bulle, The which they han publiced atte fulle.

750 The rude peple, as it no wonder is, Wenden ful wel that it had been right so; But whan thise tydinges cam to Grisildis, I deme that hir herte was ful wo. But she, y-lyke sad for evermo, 755 Disposed was, this humble creature, (700) Thadversitee of fortune al tendure.

Abyding ever his lust and his plesaunce, To whom that she was yeven, herte and al, As to hir verray worldly suffisaunce; 760 But shortly if this storie I tellen shal, This markis writen hath in special A lettre in which he sheweth his entente, And secrely he to Boloigne it sente. To the erl of Panik, which that hadde tho 765 Wedded his suster, preyde he specially (710) To bringen boom agayn his children two In honurable estaat al openly. But o thing he him preyede outerly, That he to no wight, though men wolde enquere, 770 Sholde nat telle, whos children that they were,

But seye, the mayden sholde y-wedded be Un-to the markis of Saluce anon. And as this erl was preyed, so dide he; For at day set he on his wey is goon 775 Toward Saluce, and lordes many oon, (720) In riche array, this mayden for to gyde; Hir yonge brother ryding hir bisyde.

Arrayed was toward hir mariage This fresshe mayde, ful of gemmes clere; 780 Hir brother, which that seven yeer was of age, Arrayed eek ful fresh in his manere. And thus in greet noblesse and with glad chere, Toward Saluces shaping hir Iourney, Fro day to day they ryden in hir wey. Explicit quarta pars. Sequitur quinta pars. 785 Among al this, after his wikke usage, (730) This markis, yet his wyf to tempte more To the uttereste preve of hir corage, Fully to han experience and lore If that she were as stedfast as bifore, 790 He on a day in open audience Ful boistously hath seyd hir this sentence:

‘Certes, Grisilde, I hadde y-nough plesaunce To han yow to my wyf for your goodnesse, As for your trouthe and for your obeisaunce, 795 Nought for your linage ne for your richesse; (740) But now knowe I in verray soothfastnesse That in gret lordshipe, if I wel avyse, Ther is gret servitute in sondry wyse. I may nat don as every plowman may; 800 My peple me constreyneth for to take Another wyf, and cryen day by day; And eek the pope, rancour for to slake, Consenteth it, that dar I undertake; And treweliche thus muche I wol yow seye, 805 My newe wyf is coming by the weye. (750) Be strong of herte, and voyde anon hir place, And thilke dower that ye broghten me Tak it agayn, I graunte it of my grace; Retourneth to your fadres hous,’ quod he; 810 ‘No man may alwey han prosperitee; With evene herte I rede yow tendure The strook of fortune or of aventure.’

And she answerde agayn in pacience, ‘My lord,’ quod she, ‘I woot, and wiste alway 815 How that bitwixen your magnificence (760) And my poverte no wight can ne may Maken comparison; it is no nay. I ne heeld me never digne in no manere To be your wyf, no, ne your chamberere. 820 And in this hous, ther ye me lady made— The heighe god take I for my witnesse, And also wisly he my soule glade— I never heeld me lady ne maistresse, But humble servant to your worthinesse, 825 And ever shal, whyl that my lyf may dure, (770) Aboven every worldly creature. That ye so longe of your benignitee Han holden me in honour and nobleye, Wher-as I was noght worthy for to be, 830 That thonke I god and yow, to whom I preye Foryelde it yow; there is na-more to seye. Un-to my fader gladly wol I wende, And with him dwelle un-to my lyves ende.

Ther I was fostred of a child ful smal, 835 Til I be deed, my lyf ther wol I lede (780) A widwe clene, in body, herte, and al. For sith I yaf to yow my maydenhede, And am your trewe wyf, it is no drede, God shilde swich a lordes wyf to take 840 Another man to housbonde or to make. And of your newe wyf, god of his grace So graunte yow wele and prosperitee: For I wol gladly yelden hir my place, In which that I was blisful wont to be, 845 For sith it lyketh yow, my lord,’ quod she, (790) ‘That whylom weren al myn hertes reste, That I shal goon, I wol gon whan yow leste. But ther-as ye me profre swich dowaire As I first broghte, it is wel in my minde 850 It were my wrecched clothes, no-thing faire, The which to me were hard now for to finde. O gode god! how gentil and how kinde Ye semed by your speche and your visage The day that maked was our mariage! 855 But sooth is seyd, algate I finde it trewe— (800) For in effect it preved is on me— Love is noght old as whan that it is newe. But certes, lord, for noon adversitee, To dyen in the cas, it shal nat be 860 That ever in word or werk I shal repente That I yow yaf myn herte in hool entente. My lord, ye woot that, in my fadres place, Ye dede me strepe out of my povre wede, And richely me cladden, of your grace. 865 To yow broghte I noght elles, out of drede, (810) But feyth and nakednesse and maydenhede. And here agayn my clothing I restore, And eek my wedding-ring, for evermore.

The remenant of your Iewels redy be 870 In-with your chambre, dar I saufly sayn; Naked out of my fadres hous,’ quod she, ‘I cam, and naked moot I turne agayn. Al your plesaunce wol I folwen fayn; But yet I hope it be nat your entente 875 That I smoklees out of your paleys wente.

(820) Ye coude nat doon so dishoneste a thing, That thilke wombe in which your children leye Sholde, biforn the peple, in my walking, Be seyn al bare; wherfor I yow preye, 880 Lat me nat lyk a worm go by the weye. Remembre yow, myn owene lord so dere, I was your wyf, thogh I unworthy were. Wherfor, in guerdon of my maydenhede, Which that I broghte, and noght agayn I bere, 885 As voucheth sauf to yeve me, to my mede, (830) But swich a smok as I was wont to were, That I therwith may wrye the wombe of here That was your wyf; and heer take I my leve Of yow, myn owene lord, lest I yow greve.’

890 ‘The smok,’ quod he, ‘that thou hast on thy bak, Lat it be stille, and ber it forth with thee.’ But wel unnethes thilke word he spak, But wente his wey for rewthe and for pitee. Biforn the folk hir-selven strepeth she, 895 And in hir smok, with heed and foot al bare, (840) Toward hir fader hous forth is she fare. The folk hir folwe wepinge in hir weye, And fortune ay they cursen as they goon; But she fro weping kepte hir yën dreye, 900 Ne in this tyme word ne spak she noon. Hir fader, that this tyding herde anoon, Curseth the day and tyme that nature Shoop him to been a lyves creature. For out of doute this olde povre man 905 Was ever in suspect of hir mariage; (850) For ever he demed, sith that it bigan, That whan the lord fulfild had his corage, Him wolde thinke it were a disparage To his estaat so lowe for talighte, 910 And voyden hir as sone as ever he mighte. Agayns his doghter hastilich goth he, For he by noyse of folk knew hir cominge, And with hir olde cote, as it mighte be, He covered hir, ful sorwefully wepinge; 915 But on hir body mighte he it nat bringe. (860) For rude was the cloth, and more of age By dayes fele than at hir mariage.

Thus with hir fader, for a certeyn space, Dwelleth this flour of wyfly pacience, 920 That neither by hir wordes ne hir face Biforn the folk, ne eek in hir absence, Ne shewed she that hir was doon offence; Ne of hir heigh estaat no remembraunce Ne hadde she, as by hir countenaunce. 925 No wonder is, for in hir grete estaat (870) Hir goost was ever in pleyn humylitee; No tendre mouth, non herte delicaat, No pompe, no semblant of royaltee, But ful of pacient benignitee, 930 Discreet and prydeles, ay honurable, And to hir housbonde ever meke and stable. Men speke of Iob and most for his humblesse, As clerkes, whan hem list, can wel endyte, Namely of men, but as in soothfastnesse, 935 Thogh clerkes preyse wommen but a lyte, (880) Ther can no man in humblesse him acquyte As womman can, ne can ben half so trewe As wommen been, but it be falle of-newe.

[Pars Sexta.] Fro Boloigne is this erl of Panik come, 940 Of which the fame up-sprang to more and lesse, And in the peples eres alle and some Was couth eek, that a newe markisesse He with him broghte, in swich pompe and richesse, That never was ther seyn with mannes yë 945 So noble array in al West Lumbardye.

(890) The markis, which that shoop and knew al this, Er that this erl was come, sente his message For thilke sely povre Grisildis; And she with humble herte and glad visage, 950 Nat with no swollen thoght in hir corage, Cam at his heste, and on hir knees hir sette, And reverently and wysly she him grette. ‘Grisild,’ quod he, ‘my wille is outerly, This mayden, that shal wedded been to me, 955 Receyved be to-morwe as royally (900) As it possible is in myn hous to be. And eek that every wight in his degree Have his estaat in sitting and servyse And heigh plesaunce, as I can best devyse.

960 I have no wommen suffisaunt certayn The chambres for tarraye in ordinaunce After my lust, and therfor wolde I fayn That thyn were al swich maner governaunce; Thou knowest eek of old al my plesaunce; 965 Though thyn array be badde and yvel biseye, (910) Do thou thy devoir at the leeste weye.’ ‘Nat only, lord, that I am glad,’ quod she, ‘To doon your lust, but I desyre also Yow for to serve and plese in my degree 970 With-outen feynting, and shal evermo. Ne never, for no wele ne no wo, Ne shal the gost with-in myn herte stente To love yow best with al my trewe entente.’ And with that word she gan the hous to dighte, 975 And tables for to sette and beddes make; (920) And peyned hir to doon al that she mighte, Preying the chambereres, for goddes sake, To hasten hem, and faste swepe and shake; And she, the moste servisable of alle, 980 Hath every chambre arrayed and his halle.

Abouten undern gan this erl alighte, That with him broghte thise noble children tweye, For which the peple ran to seen the sighte Of hir array, so richely biseye; 985 And than at erst amonges hem they seye, (930) That Walter was no fool, thogh that him leste To chaunge his wyf, for it was for the beste.

For she is fairer, as they demen alle, Than is Grisild, and more tendre of age, 990 And fairer fruit bitwene hem sholde falle, And more plesant, for hir heigh linage; Hir brother eek so fair was of visage, That hem to seen the peple hath caught plesaunce, Commending now the markis gouernaunce.— 995 Auctor. ‘O stormy peple! unsad and ever untrewe! (940) Ay undiscreet and chaunging as a vane, Delyting ever in rumbel that is newe, For lyk the mone ay wexe ye and wane; Ay ful of clapping, dere y-nogh a Iane; 1000 Your doom is fals, your constance yvel preveth, A ful greet fool is he that on yow leveth!’

Thus seyden sadde folk in that citee, Whan that the peple gazed up and doun, For they were glad, right for the noveltee, 1005 To han a newe lady of hir toun. (950) Na-more of this make I now mencioun; But to Grisilde agayn wol I me dresse, And telle hir constance and hir bisinesse.— Ful bisy was Grisilde in every thing 1010 That to the feste was apertinent; Right noght was she abayst of hir clothing, Though it were rude and somdel eek to-rent. But with glad chere to the yate is went, With other folk, to grete the markisesse, 1015 And after that doth forth hir bisinesse.

(960) With so glad chere his gestes she receyveth, And conningly, everich in his degree, That no defaute no man aperceyveth; But ay they wondren what she mighte be 1020 That in so povre array was for to see, And coude swich honour and reverence; And worthily they preisen hir prudence.

In al this mene whyle she ne stente This mayde and eek hir brother to commende 1025 With al hir herte, in ful benigne entente, (970) So wel, that no man coude hir prys amende. But atte laste, whan that thise lordes wende To sitten doun to mete, he gan to calle Grisilde, as she was bisy in his halle. 1030 ‘Grisilde,’ quod he, as it were in his pley, ‘How lyketh thee my wyf and hir beautee?’ ‘Right wel,’ quod she, ‘my lord; for, in good fey, A fairer say I never noon than she. I prey to god yeve hir prosperitee; 1035 And so hope I that he wol to yow sende (980) Plesance y-nogh un-to your lyves ende.

O thing biseke I yow and warne also, That ye ne prikke with no tormentinge This tendre mayden, as ye han don mo; 1040 For she is fostred in hir norishinge More tendrely, and, to my supposinge, She coude nat adversitee endure As coude a povre fostred creature.’

And whan this Walter say hir pacience, 1045 Hir glade chere and no malice at al, (990) And he so ofte had doon to hir offence, And she ay sad and constant as a wal, Continuing ever hir innocence overal, This sturdy markis gan his herte dresse 1050 To rewen up-on hir wyfly stedfastnesse.

‘This is y-nogh, Grisilde myn,’ quod he, ‘Be now na-more agast ne yvel apayed; I have thy feith and thy benignitee, As wel as ever womman was, assayed, 1055 In greet estaat, and povreliche arrayed. (1000) Now knowe I, dere wyf, thy stedfastnesse,’— And hir in armes took and gan hir kesse.

And she for wonder took of it no keep; She herde nat what thing he to hir seyde; 1060 She ferde as she had stert out of a sleep, Til she out of hir masednesse abreyde. ‘Grisilde,’ quod he, ‘by god that for us deyde, Thou art my wyf, ne noon other I have, Ne never hadde, as god my soule save!

1065 This is thy doghter which thou hast supposed (1010) To be my wyf; that other feithfully Shal be myn heir, as I have ay purposed; Thou bare him in thy body trewely. At Boloigne have I kept hem prively; 1070 Tak hem agayn, for now maystow nat seye That thou hast lorn non of thy children tweye.

And folk that otherweyes han seyd of me, I warne hem wel that I have doon this dede For no malice ne for no crueltee, 1075 But for tassaye in thee thy wommanhede, (1020) And nat to sleen my children, god forbede! But for to kepe hem prively and stille, Til I thy purpos knewe and al thy wille.’ Whan she this herde, aswowne doun she falleth 1080 For pitous Ioye, and after hir swowninge She bothe hir yonge children un-to hir calleth, And in hir armes, pitously wepinge, Embraceth hem, and tendrely kissinge Ful lyk a mooder, with hir salte teres 1085 She batheth bothe hir visage and hir heres. (1030) O, which a pitous thing it was to see Hir swowning, and hir humble voys to here! ‘Grauntmercy, lord, that thanke I yow,’ quod she, ‘That ye han saved me my children dere! 1090 Now rekke I never to ben deed right here; Sith I stonde in your love and in your grace, No fors of deeth, ne whan my spirit pace! O tendre, o dere, o yonge children myne, Your woful mooder wende stedfastly 1095 That cruel houndes or som foul vermyne (1040) Hadde eten yow; but god, of his mercy, And your benigne fader tendrely Hath doon yow kept;’ and in that same stounde Al sodeynly she swapte adoun to grounde.

1100 And in her swough so sadly holdeth she Hir children two, whan she gan hem tembrace, That with greet sleighte and greet difficultee The children from hir arm they gonne arace. O many a teer on many a pitous face 1105 Doun ran of hem that stoden hir bisyde; (1050) Unnethe abouten hir mighte they abyde. Walter hir gladeth, and hir sorwe slaketh; She ryseth up, abaysed, from hir traunce, And every wight hir Ioye and feste maketh, 1110 Til she hath caught agayn hir contenaunce. Walter hir dooth so feithfully plesaunce, That it was deyntee for to seen the chere Bitwixe hem two, now they ben met y-fere. Thise ladyes, whan that they hir tyme say, 1115 Han taken hir, and in-to chambre goon, (1060) And strepen hir out of hir rude array, And in a cloth of gold that brighte shoon, With a coroune of many a riche stoon Up-on hir heed, they in-to halle hir broghte, 1120 And ther she was honoured as hir oghte.

Thus hath this pitous day a blisful ende, For every man and womman dooth his might This day in murthe and revel to dispende Til on the welkne shoon the sterres light. 1125 For more solempne in every mannes sight (1070) This feste was, and gretter of costage, Than was the revel of hir mariage. Ful many a yeer in heigh prosperitee Liven thise two in concord and in reste, 1130 And richely his doghter maried he Un-to a lord, oon of the worthieste Of al Itaille; and than in pees and reste His wyves fader in his court he kepeth, Til that the soule out of his body crepeth. 1135 His sone succedeth in his heritage (1080) In reste and pees, after his fader day; And fortunat was eek in mariage, Al putte he nat his wyf in greet assay. This world is nat so strong, it is no nay, 1140 As it hath been in olde tymes yore, And herkneth what this auctour seith therfore.

This storie is seyd, nat for that wyves sholde Folwen Grisilde as in humilitee, For it were importable, though they wolde; 1145 But for that every wight, in his degree, (1090) Sholde be constant in adversitee As was Grisilde; therfor Petrark wryteth This storie, which with heigh style he endyteth.

For, sith a womman was so pacient 1150 Un-to a mortal man, wel more us oghte Receyven al in gree that god us sent; For greet skile is, he preve that he wroghte. But he ne tempteth no man that he boghte, As seith seint Iame, if ye his pistel rede; 1155 He preveth folk al day, it is no drede, (1100) And suffreth us, as for our excercyse, With sharpe scourges of adversitee Ful ofte to be bete in sondry wyse; Nat for to knowe our wil, for certes he, 1160 Er we were bom, knew al our freletee; And for our beste is al his governaunce; Lat us than live in vertuous suffraunce.

Bihold the merye wordes of the Hoste. This worthy Clerk, whan ended was his tale, Our hoste seyde, and swoor by goddes bones, ‘Me were lever than a barel ale My wyf at hoom had herd this legende ones; 5 This is a gentil tale for the nones, As to my purpos, wiste ye my wille; But thing that wol nat be, lat it be stille.’ Here endeth the Tale of the Clerk of Oxenford.

But o word, lordinges, herkneth er I go:— It were ful hard to finde now a dayes 1165 In al a toun Grisildes three or two; (1110) For, if that they were put to swiche assayes, The gold of hem hath now so badde alayes With bras, that thogh the coyne be fair at yë, It wolde rather breste a-two than plye. 1170 For which heer, for the wyves love of Bathe, Whos lyf and al hir secte god mayntene In heigh maistrye, and elles were it scathe, I wol with lusty herte fresshe and grene Seyn yow a song to glade yow, I wene, 1175 And lat us stinte of ernestful matere:— (1120) Herkneth my song, that seith in this manere. Lenvoy de Chaucer. Grisilde is deed, and eek hir pacience, And bothe atones buried in Itaille; For which I crye in open audience, 1180 No wedded man so hardy be tassaille His wyves pacience, in hope to finde Grisildes, for in certein he shall faille! O noble wyves, ful of heigh prudence, Lat noon humilitee your tonge naille, 1185 Ne lat no clerk have cause or diligence (1130) To wryte of yow a storie of swich mervaille As of Grisildis pacient and kinde; Lest Chichevache yow swelwe in hir entraille! Folweth Ekko, that holdeth no silence, 1190 But evere answereth at the countretaille; Beth nat bidaffed for your innocence, But sharply tak on yow the governaille. Emprinteth wel this lesson in your minde For commune profit, sith it may availle. 1195 Ye archewyves, stondeth at defence, (1140) Sin ye be stronge as is a greet camaille; Ne suffreth nat that men yow doon offence. And sclendre wyves, feble as in bataille, Beth egre as is a tygre yond in Inde; 1200 Ay clappeth as a mille, I yow consaille. Ne dreed hem nat, do hem no reverence; For though thyn housbonde armed be in maille, The arwes of thy crabbed eloquence Shal perce his brest, and eek his aventaille; 1205 In Ialousye I rede eek thou him binde, And thou shalt make him couche as dooth a quaille.

If thou be fair, ther folk ben in presence Shew thou thy visage and thyn apparaille; If thou be foul, be free of thy dispence, 1210 To gete thee freendes ay do thy travaille; Be ay of chere as light as leef on linde, And lat him care, and wepe, and wringe, and waille! Here endeth the Clerk of Oxonford his Tale.

The Prologe of the Marchantes Tale. ‘Weping and wayling, care, and other sorwe I know y-nogh, on even and a-morwe,’ 1215 Quod the Marchaunt, ‘and so don othere mo That wedded been, I trowe that it be so. For, wel I woot, it fareth so with me. I have a wyf, the worste that may be; For thogh the feend to hir y-coupled were, 1220 She wolde him overmacche, I dar wel swere. What sholde I yow reherce in special (10) Hir hye malice? she is a shrewe at al. Ther is a long and large difference Bitwix Grisildis grete pacience 1225 And of my wyf the passing crueltee. Were I unbounden, al-so moot I thee! I wolde never eft comen in the snare. We wedded men live in sorwe and care; Assaye who-so wol, and he shal finde 1230 I seye sooth, by seint Thomas of Inde, As for the more part, I sey nat alle. (20) God shilde that it sholde so bifalle! A! good sir hoost! I have y-wedded be Thise monthes two, and more nat, pardee; 1235 And yet, I trowe, he that all his lyve Wyflees hath been, though that men wolde him ryve Un-to the herte, ne coude in no manere Tellen so muchel sorwe, as I now here Coude tellen of my wyves cursednesse!’ 1240 ‘Now,’ quod our hoost, ‘Marchaunt, so god yow blesse, Sin ye so muchel knowen of that art, (30) Ful hertely I pray yow telle us part.’ ‘Gladly,’ quod he, ‘but of myn owene sore, For sory herte, I telle may na-more.’

Here biginneth the Marchantes Tale. 1245 Whylom ther was dwellinge in Lumbardye A worthy knight, that born was of Pavye, In which he lived in greet prosperitee; And sixty yeer a wyflees man was he, And folwed ay his bodily delyt 1250 On wommen, ther-as was his appetyt, As doon thise foles that ben seculeer. And whan that he was passed sixty yeer, Were it for holinesse or for dotage, (10) I can nat seye, but swich a greet corage 1255 Hadde this knight to been a wedded man, That day and night he dooth al that he can Tespyen where he mighte wedded be; Preyinge our lord to granten him, that he Mighte ones knowe of thilke blisful lyf 1260 That is bitwixe an housbond and his wyf; And for to live under that holy bond With which that first god man and womman bond, ‘Non other lyf,’ seyde he, ‘is worth a bene; (20) For wedlok is so esy and so clene, 1265 That in this world it is a paradys.’ Thus seyde this olde knight, that was so wys.

And certeinly, as sooth as god is king, To take a wyf, it is a glorious thing, And namely whan a man is old and hoor; 1270 Thanne is a wyf the fruit of his tresor. Than sholde he take a yong wyf and a feir, On which he mighte engendren him an heir, And lede his lyf in Ioye and in solas, (30) Wher-as thise bacheleres singe ‘allas,’ 1275 Whan that they finden any adversitee In love, which nis but childish vanitee. And trewely it sit wel to be so, That bacheleres have often peyne and wo; On brotel ground they builde, and brotelnesse 1280 They finde, whan they wene sikernesse. They live but as a brid or as a beste, In libertee, and under non areste, Ther-as a wedded man in his estaat (40) Liveth a lyf blisful and ordinaat, 1285 Under the yok of mariage y-bounde; Wel may his herte in Ioye and blisse habounde. For who can be so buxom as a wyf? Who is so trewe, and eek so ententyf To kepe him, syk and hool, as is his make? 1290 For wele or wo, she wol him nat forsake. She nis nat wery him to love and serve, Thogh that he lye bedrede til he sterve. And yet somme clerkes seyn, it nis nat so, (50) Of whiche he, Theofraste, is oon of tho. 1295 What force though Theofraste liste lye? ‘Ne take no wyf,’ quod he, ‘for housbondrye, As for to spare in houshold thy dispence; A trewe servant dooth more diligence, Thy good to kepe, than thyn owene wyf. 1300 For she wol clayme half part al hir lyf; And if that thou be syk, so god me save, Thy verray frendes or a trewe knave Wol kepe thee bet than she that waiteth ay (60) After thy good, and hath don many a day. [T. om. And if thou take a wyf un-to thyn hold, [T. om. Ful lightly maystow been a cokewold.’ This sentence, and an hundred thinges worse, Wryteth this man, ther god his bones corse! But take no kepe of al swich vanitee; 1310 Deffye Theofraste and herke me.

A wyf is goddes yifte verraily; Alle other maner yiftes hardily, As londes, rentes, pasture, or commune, (70) Or moebles, alle ben yiftes of fortune, 1315 That passen as a shadwe upon a wal. But dredelees, if pleynly speke I shal, A wyf wol laste, and in thyn hous endure, Wel lenger than thee list, paraventure.

Mariage is a ful gret sacrement; 1320 He which that hath no wyf, I holde him shent; He liveth helplees and al desolat, I speke of folk in seculer estaat. And herke why, I sey nat this for noght, (80) That womman is for mannes help y-wroght. 1325 The hye god, whan he hadde Adam maked, And saugh him al allone, bely-naked, God of his grete goodnesse seyde than, ‘Lat us now make an help un-to this man Lyk to him-self;’ and thanne he made him Eve. 1330 Heer may ye se, and heer-by may ye preve, That wyf is mannes help and his confort, His paradys terrestre and his disport. So buxom and so vertuous is she, (90) They moste nedes live in unitee. 1335 O flesh they been, and o flesh, as I gesse, Hath but on herte, in wele and in distresse.

A wyf! a! Seinte Marie, benedicite! How mighte a man han any adversitee That hath a wyf? certes, I can nat seye. 1340 The blisse which that is bitwixe hem tweye Ther may no tonge telle, or herte thinke. If he be povre, she helpeth him to swinke; She kepeth his good, and wasteth never a deel; (100) Al that hir housbonde lust, hir lyketh weel; 1345 She seith not ones ‘nay,’ whan he seith ‘ye.’ ‘Do this,’ seith he; ‘al redy, sir,’ seith she. O blisful ordre of wedlok precious, Thou art so mery, and eek so vertuous, And so commended and appreved eek, 1350 That every man that halt him worth a leek, Up-on his bare knees oghte al his lyf Thanken his god that him hath sent a wyf; Or elles preye to god him for to sende (110) A wyf, to laste un-to his lyves ende. 1355 For thanne his lyf is set in sikernesse; He may nat be deceyved, as I gesse, So that he werke after his wyves reed; Than may he boldly beren up his heed, They been so trewe and ther-with-al so wyse; 1360 For which, if thou wolt werken as the wyse, Do alwey so as wommen wol thee rede.

Lo, how that Iacob, as thise clerkes rede, By good conseil of his moder Rebekke, (120) Bond the kides skin aboute his nekke; 1365 Thurgh which his fadres benisoun he wan. Lo, Iudith, as the storie eek telle can, By wys conseil she goddes peple kepte, And slow him, Olofernus, whyl he slepte. Lo Abigayl, by good conseil how she 1370 Saved hir housbond Nabal, whan that he Sholde han be slayn; and loke, Ester also By good conseil delivered out of wo The peple of god, and made him, Mardochee, (130) Of Assuere enhaunced for to be. 1375 Ther nis no-thing in gree superlatyf, As seith Senek, above an humble wyf. Suffre thy wyves tonge, as Caton bit; She shal comande, and thou shalt suffren it; And yet she wol obeye of curteisye. 1380 A wyf is keper of thyn housbondrye; Wel may the syke man biwaille and wepe, Ther-as ther nis no wyf the hous to kepe. I warne thee, if wysly thou wolt wirche, (140) Love wel thy wyf, as Crist loveth his chirche. 1385 If thou lovest thy-self, thou lovest thy wyf; No man hateth his flesh, but in his lyf He fostreth it, and therfore bidde I thee, Cherisse thy wyf, or thou shalt never thee. Housbond and wyf, what so men Iape or pleye, 1390 Of worldly folk holden the siker weye; They been so knit, ther may noon harm bityde; And namely, up-on the wyves syde. For which this Ianuarie, of whom I tolde, (150) Considered hath, in with his dayes olde, 1395 The lusty lyf, the vertuous quiete, That is in mariage hony-swete; And for his freendes on a day he sente, To tellen hem theffect of his entente.

With face sad, his tale he hath hem told; 1400 He seyde, ‘freendes, I am hoor and old, And almost, god wot, on my pittes brinke; Up-on my soule somwhat moste I thinke. I have my body folily despended; (160) Blessed be god, that it shal been amended! 1405 For I wol be, certeyn, a wedded man, And that anoon in al the haste I can, Un-to som mayde fair and tendre of age. I prey yow, shapeth for my mariage Al sodeynly, for I wol nat abyde; 1410 And I wol fonde tespyen, on my syde, To whom I may be wedded hastily. But for-as-muche as ye ben mo than I, Ye shullen rather swich a thing espyen (170) Than I, and wher me best were to allyen.

1415 But o thing warne I yow, my freendes dere, I wol non old wyf han in no manere. She shal nat passe twenty yeer, certayn; Old fish and yong flesh wolde I have ful fayn. Bet is,’ quod he, ‘a pyk than a pikerel; 1420 And bet than old boef is the tendre veel. I wol no womman thritty yeer of age, It is but bene-straw and greet forage. And eek thise olde widwes, god it woot, (180) They conne so muchel craft on Wades boot, 1425 So muchel broken harm, whan that hem leste, That with hem sholde I never live in reste. For sondry scoles maken sotil clerkis; Womman of manye scoles half a clerk is. But certeynly, a yong thing may men gye, 1430 Right as men may warm wex with handes plye. Wherfore I sey yow pleynly, in a clause, I wol non old wyf han right for this cause. For if so were, I hadde swich mischaunce, (190) That I in hir ne coude han no plesaunce, 1435 Thanne sholde I lede my lyf in avoutrye, And go streight to the devel, whan I dye. Ne children sholde I none up-on hir geten; Yet were me lever houndes had me eten, Than that myn heritage sholde falle 1440 In straunge hand, and this I tell yow alle. I dote nat, I woot the cause why Men sholde wedde, and forthermore wot I, Ther speketh many a man of mariage, (200) That woot na-more of it than woot my page, 1445 For whiche causes man sholde take a wyf. If he ne may nat liven chast his lyf, Take him a wyf with greet devocioun, By-cause of leveful procreacioun Of children, to thonour of god above, 1450 And nat only for paramour or love; And for they sholde lecherye eschue, And yelde hir dettes whan that they ben due; Or for that ech of hem sholde helpen other (210) In meschief, as a suster shal the brother; 1455 And live in chastitee ful holily. But sires, by your leve, that am nat I. For god be thanked, I dar make avaunt, I fele my limes stark and suffisaunt To do al that a man bilongeth to; 1460 I woot my-selven best what I may do. Though I be hoor, I fare as dooth a tree That blosmeth er that fruyt y-woxen be; A blosmy tree nis neither drye ne deed. (220) I fele me nowher hoor but on myn heed; 1465 Myn herte and alle my limes been as grene As laurer thurgh the yeer is for to sene. And sin that ye han herd al myn entente, I prey yow to my wil ye wole assente.’

Diverse men diversely him tolde 1470 Of mariage manye ensamples olde. Somme blamed it, somme preysed it, certeyn; But atte laste, shortly for to seyn, As al day falleth altercacioun (230) Bitwixen freendes in disputisoun, 1475 Ther fil a stryf bitwixe his bretheren two, Of whiche that oon was cleped Placebo, Iustinus soothly called was that other. Placebo seyde, ‘o Ianuarie, brother, Ful litel nede had ye, my lord so dere, 1480 Conseil to axe of any that is here; But that ye been so ful of sapience, That yow ne lyketh, for your heighe prudence, To weyven fro the word of Salomon. (240) This word seyde he un-to us everichon: 1485 “Wirk alle thing by conseil,” thus seyde he, “And thanne shaltow nat repente thee.” But though that Salomon spak swich a word, Myn owene dere brother and my lord, So wisly god my soule bringe at reste, 1490 I hold your owene conseil is the beste. For brother myn, of me tak this motyf, I have now been a court-man al my lyf. And god it woot, though I unworthy be, (250) I have stonden in ful greet degree 1495 Abouten lordes of ful heigh estaat; Yet hadde I never with noon of hem debaat. I never hem contraried, trewely; I woot wel that my lord can more than I. What that he seith, I holde it ferme and stable; 1500 I seye the same, or elles thing semblable. A ful gret fool is any conseillour, That serveth any lord of heigh honour, That dar presume, or elles thenken it, (260) That his conseil sholde passe his lordes wit. 1505 Nay, lordes been no foles, by my fay; Ye han your-selven shewed heer to-day So heigh sentence, so holily and weel, That I consente and conferme every-deel Your wordes alle, and your opinioun. 1510 By god, ther nis no man in al this toun Nin al Itaille, that coude bet han sayd; Crist halt him of this conseil wel apayd. And trewely, it is an heigh corage (270) Of any man, that stopen is in age, 1515 To take a yong wyf; by my fader kin, Your herte hangeth on a Ioly pin. Doth now in this matere right as yow leste, For finally I holde it for the beste.’

Iustinus, that ay stille sat and herde, 1520 Right in this wyse to Placebo answerde: ‘Now brother myn, be pacient, I preye, Sin ye han seyd, and herkneth what I seye. Senek among his othere wordes wyse (280) Seith, that a man oghte him right wel avyse, 1525 To whom he yeveth his lond or his catel. And sin I oghte avyse me right wel To whom I yeve my good awey fro me, Wel muchel more I oghte avysed be To whom I yeve my body; for alwey 1530 I warne yow wel, it is no childes pley To take a wyf with-oute avysement. Men moste enquere, this is myn assent, Wher she be wys, or sobre, or dronkelewe, (290) Or proud, or elles other-weys a shrewe; 1535 A chydester, or wastour of thy good, Or riche, or poore, or elles mannish wood. Al-be-it so that no man finden shal Noon in this world that trotteth hool in al, Ne man ne beest, swich as men coude devyse; 1540 But nathelees, it oghte y-nough suffise With any wyf, if so were that she hadde Mo gode thewes than hir vyces badde; And al this axeth leyser for tenquere. (300) For god it woot, I have wept many a tere 1545 Ful prively, sin I have had a wyf. Preyse who-so wole a wedded mannes lyf, Certein, I finde in it but cost and care, And observances, of alle blisses bare. And yet, god woot, my neighebores aboute, 1550 And namely of wommen many a route, Seyn that I have the moste stedefast wyf, And eek the mekeste oon that bereth lyf. But I wot best wher wringeth me my sho. (300) Ye mowe, for me, right as yow lyketh do; 1555 Avyseth yow, ye been a man of age, How that ye entren in-to mariage, And namely with a yong wyf and a fair. By him that made water, erthe, and air, The yongest man that is in al this route 1560 Is bisy y-nogh to bringen it aboute To han his wyf allone, trusteth me. Ye shul nat plese hir fully yeres three, This is to seyn, to doon hir ful plesaunce. (320) A wyf axeth ful many an observaunce. 1565 I prey yow that ye be nat yvel apayd.’

‘Wel,’ quod this Ianuarie, ‘and hastow sayd? Straw for thy Senek, and for thy proverbes, I counte nat a panier ful of herbes Of scole-termes; wyser men than thow, 1570 As thou hast herd, assenteden right now To my purpos; Placebo, what sey ye?’

‘I seye, it is a cursed man,’ quod he, ‘That letteth matrimoine, sikerly.’ (330) And with that word they rysen sodeynly, 1575 And been assented fully, that he sholde Be wedded whanne him list and wher he wolde.

Heigh fantasye and curious bisinesse Fro day to day gan in the soule impresse Of Ianuarie aboute his mariage. 1580 Many fair shap, and many a fair visage Ther passeth thurgh his herte, night by night. As who-so toke a mirour polished bright, And sette it in a commune market-place, (340) Than sholde he see many a figure pace 1585 By his mirour; and, in the same wyse, Gan Ianuarie inwith his thoght devyse Of maydens, whiche that dwelten him bisyde. He wiste nat wher that he mighte abyde. For if that oon have beaute in hir face, 1590 Another stant so in the peples grace For hir sadnesse, and hir benignitee, That of the peple grettest voys hath she. And somme were riche, and hadden badde name. (350) But nathelees, bitwixe ernest and game, 1595 He atte laste apoynted him on oon, And leet alle othere from his herte goon, And chees hir of his owene auctoritee; For love is blind al day, and may nat see. And whan that he was in his bed y-broght, 1600 He purtreyed, in his herte and in his thoght, Hir fresshe beautee and hir age tendre, Hir myddel smal, hir armes longe and sclendre, Hir wyse governaunce, hir gentillesse, (360) Hir wommanly beringe and hir sadnesse. 1605 And whan that he on hir was condescended, Him thoughte his chois mighte nat ben amended. For whan that he him-self concluded hadde, Him thoughte ech other mannes wit so badde, That inpossible it were to replye 1610 Agayn his chois, this was his fantasye. His freendes sente he to at his instaunce, And preyed hem to doon him that plesaunce, That hastily they wolden to him come; (370) He wolde abregge hir labour, alle and some. 1615 Nedeth na-more for him to go ne ryde, He was apoynted ther he wolde abyde.

Placebo cam, and eek his freendes sone, And alderfirst he bad hem alle a bone, That noon of hem none argumentes make 1620 Agayn the purpos which that he hath take; ‘Which purpos was plesant to god,’ seyde he, ‘And verray ground of his prosperitee.’

He seyde, ther was a mayden in the toun, (380) Which that of beautee hadde greet renoun, 1625 Al were it so she were of smal degree; Suffyseth him hir youthe and hir beautee. Which mayde, he seyde, he wolde han to his wyf, To lede in ese and holinesse his lyf. And thanked god, that he mighte han hire al, 1630 That no wight of his blisse parten shal. And preyde hem to labouren in this nede, And shapen that he faille nat to spede; For thanne, he seyde, his spirit was at ese. (390) ‘Thanne is,’ quod he, ‘no-thing may me displese, 1635 Saue o thing priketh in my conscience, The which I wol reherce in your presence.

I have,’ quod he, ‘herd seyd, ful yore ago, Ther may no man han parfite blisses two, This is to seye, in erthe and eek in hevene. 1640 For though he kepe him fro the sinnes sevene, And eek from every branche of thilke tree, Yet is ther so parfit felicitee, And so greet ese and lust in mariage, (400) That ever I am agast, now in myn age, 1645 That I shal lede now so mery a lyf, So delicat, with-outen wo and stryf, That I shal have myn hevene in erthe here. For sith that verray hevene is boght so dere, With tribulacioun and greet penaunce, 1650 How sholde I thanne, that live in swich plesaunce As alle wedded men don with hir wyvis, Come to the blisse ther Crist eterne on lyve is? This is my drede, and ye, my bretheren tweye, (410) Assoilleth me this questioun, I preye.’

1655 Iustinus, which that hated his folye, Answerde anon, right in his Iaperye; And for he wolde his longe tale abregge, He wolde noon auctoritee allegge, But seyde, ‘sire, so ther be noon obstacle 1660 Other than this, god of his hye miracle And of his mercy may so for yow wirche, That, er ye have your right of holy chirche, Ye may repente of wedded mannes lyf, (420) In which ye seyn ther is no wo ne stryf. 1665 And elles, god forbede but he sente A wedded man him grace to repente Wel ofte rather than a sengle man! And therfore, sire, the beste reed I can, Dispeire yow noght, but have in your memorie, 1670 Paraunter she may be your purgatorie! She may be goddes mene, and goddes whippe; Than shal your soule up to hevene skippe Swifter than dooth an arwe out of the bowe! (430) I hope to god, her-after shul ye knowe, 1675 That their nis no so greet felicitee In mariage, ne never-mo shal be, That yow shal lette of your savacioun, So that ye use, as skile is and resoun, The lustes of your wyf attemprely, 1680 And that ye plese hir nat to amorously, And that ye kepe yow eek from other sinne. My tale is doon:—for my wit is thinne. Beth nat agast her-of, my brother dere.’— (440) (But lat us waden out of this matere. 1685 The Wyf of Bathe, if ye han understonde, Of mariage, which we have on honde, Declared hath ful wel in litel space).— ‘Fareth now wel, god have yow in his grace.’

And with this word this Justin and his brother 1690 Han take hir leve, and ech of hem of other. For whan they sawe it moste nedes be, They wroghten so, by sly and wys tretee, That she, this mayden, which that Maius highte, (450) As hastily as ever that she mighte, 1695 Shal wedded be un-to this Ianuarie. I trowe it were to longe yow to tarie, If I yow tolde of every scrit and bond, By which that she was feffed in his lond; Or for to herknen of hir riche array. 1700 But finally y-comen is the day That to the chirche bothe be they went For to receyve the holy sacrement. Forth comth the preest, with stole aboute his nekke, (460) And bad hir be lyk Sarra and Rebekke, 1705 In wisdom and in trouthe of mariage; And seyde his orisons, as is usage, And crouched hem, and bad god sholde hem blesse, And made al siker y-nogh with holinesse.

Thus been they wedded with solempnitee, 1710 And at the feste sitteth he and she With other worthy folk up-on the deys. Al ful of Ioye and blisse is the paleys, And ful of instruments and of vitaille, (470) The moste deyntevous of al Itaille. 1715 Biforn hem stoode swiche instruments of soun, That Orpheus, ne of Thebes Amphioun, Ne maden never swich a melodye.

At every cours than cam loud minstraleye, That never tromped Ioab, for to here, 1720 Nor he, Theodomas, yet half so clere, At Thebes, whan the citee was in doute. Bacus the wyn hem skinketh al aboute, And Venus laugheth up-on every wight. (480) For Ianuarie was bicome hir knight, 1725 And wolde bothe assayen his corage In libertee, and eek in mariage; And with hir fyrbrond in hir hand aboute Daunceth biforn the bryde and al the route. And certeinly, I dar right wel seyn this, 1730 Ymenëus, that god of wedding is, Saugh never his lyf so mery a wedded man. Hold thou thy pees, thou poete Marcian, That wrytest us that ilke wedding murie (490) Of hir, Philologye, and him, Mercurie 1735 And of the songes that the Muses songe. To smal is bothe thy penne, and eek thy tonge, For to descryven of this mariage. Whan tendre youthe hath wedded stouping age, Ther is swich mirthe that it may nat be writen; 1740 Assayeth it your-self, than may ye witen If that I lye or noon in this matere.

Maius, that sit with so benigne a chere, Hir to biholde it semed fayëryë; (500) Quene Ester loked never with swich an yë 1745 On Assuer, so meke a look hath she. I may yow nat devyse al hir beautee; But thus muche of hir beautee telle I may, That she was lyk the brighte morwe of May, Fulfild of alle beautee and plesaunce.

1750 This Ianuarie is ravisshed in a traunce At every time he loked on hir face; But in his herte he gan hir to manace, That he that night in armes wolde hir streyne (510) Harder than ever Paris dide Eleyne. 1755 But nathelees, yet hadde he greet pitee, That thilke night offenden hir moste he; And thoughte, ‘allas! o tendre creature! Now wolde god ye mighte wel endure Al my corage, it is so sharp and kene; 1760 I am agast ye shul it nat sustene. But god forbede that I dide al my might! Now wolde god that it were woxen night, And that the night wolde lasten evermo. (520) I wolde that al this peple were ago.’ 1765 And finally, he doth al his labour, As he best mighte, savinge his honour, To haste hem fro the mete in subtil wyse.

The tyme cam that reson was to ryse; And after that, men daunce and drinken faste, 1770 And spyces al aboute the hous they caste; And ful of Ioye and blisse is every man; All but a squyer, highte Damian, Which carf biforn the knight ful many a day. (530) He was so ravisshed on his lady May, 1775 That for the verray peyne he was ny wood; Almost he swelte and swowned ther he stood. So sore hath Venus hurt him with hir brond, As that she bar it daunsinge in hir hond. And to his bed he wente him hastily; 1780 Na-more of him as at this tyme speke I. But ther I lete him wepe y-nough and pleyne, Til fresshe May wol rewen on his peyne.