The Canterbury Tales, and Other Poems Part 14

91. Chaucer here borrows from Boethius, who says: "Hanc rerum seriem ligat, Terras ac pelagus regens, Et coelo imperitans, amor."

(Love ties these things together: the earth, and the ruling sea, and the imperial heavens)

THE MILLER'S TALE.

THE PROLOGUE.

When that the Knight had thus his tale told In all the rout was neither young nor old, That he not said it was a n.o.ble story, And worthy to be *drawen to memory*; *recorded*

And *namely the gentles* every one. *especially the gentlefolk*

Our Host then laugh'd and swore, "So may I gon,* *prosper This goes aright; *unbuckled is the mail;* *the budget is opened*

Let see now who shall tell another tale: For truely this game is well begun.

Now telleth ye, Sir Monk, if that ye conne*, *know Somewhat, to quiten* with the Knighte's tale." *match The Miller that fordrunken was all pale, So that unnethes* upon his horse he sat, *with difficulty He would avalen* neither hood nor hat, *uncover Nor abide* no man for his courtesy, *give way to But in Pilate's voice<1> he gan to cry, And swore by armes, and by blood, and bones, "I can a n.o.ble tale for the nones* *occasion, With which I will now quite* the Knighte's tale." *match Our Host saw well how drunk he was of ale, And said; "Robin, abide, my leve* brother, *dear Some better man shall tell us first another: Abide, and let us worke thriftily."

By G.o.dde's soul," quoth he, "that will not I, For I will speak, or elles go my way!"

Our Host answer'd; "*Tell on a devil way*; *devil take you!*

Thou art a fool; thy wit is overcome."

"Now hearken," quoth the Miller, "all and some: But first I make a protestatioun.

That I am drunk, I know it by my soun': And therefore if that I misspeak or say, *Wite it* the ale of Southwark, I you pray: *blame it on*<2> For I will tell a legend and a life Both of a carpenter and of his wife, How that a clerk hath *set the wrighte's cap*." *fooled the carpenter*

The Reeve answer'd and saide, "*Stint thy clap*, *hold your tongue*

Let be thy lewed drunken harlotry.

It is a sin, and eke a great folly To apeiren* any man, or him defame, *injure And eke to bringe wives in evil name.

Thou may'st enough of other thinges sayn."

This drunken Miller spake full soon again, And saide, "Leve brother Osewold, Who hath no wife, he is no cuckold.

But I say not therefore that thou art one; There be full goode wives many one.

Why art thou angry with my tale now?

I have a wife, pardie, as well as thou, Yet *n'old I*, for the oxen in my plough, *I would not*

Taken upon me more than enough, To deemen* of myself that I am one; *judge I will believe well that I am none.

An husband should not be inquisitive Of G.o.dde's privity, nor of his wife.

So he may finde G.o.dde's foison* there, *treasure Of the remnant needeth not to enquere."

What should I more say, but that this Millere He would his wordes for no man forbear, But told his churlish* tale in his mannere; *boorish, rude Me thinketh, that I shall rehea.r.s.e it here.

And therefore every gentle wight I pray, For G.o.dde's love to deem not that I say Of evil intent, but that I must rehea.r.s.e Their tales all, be they better or worse, Or elles falsen* some of my mattere. *falsify And therefore whoso list it not to hear, Turn o'er the leaf, and choose another tale; For he shall find enough, both great and smale, Of storial* thing that toucheth gentiless, *historical, true And eke morality and holiness.

Blame not me, if that ye choose amiss.

The Miller is a churl, ye know well this, So was the Reeve, with many other mo', And harlotry* they tolde bothe two. *ribald tales *Avise you* now, and put me out of blame; *be warned*

And eke men should not make earnest of game*. *jest, fun

Notes to the Prologue to the Miller's Tale

1. Pilate, an unpopular personage in the mystery-plays of the middle ages, was probably represented as having a gruff, harsh voice.

2. Wite: blame; in Scotland, "to bear the wyte," is to bear the blame.

THE TALE.

Whilom there was dwelling in Oxenford A riche gnof*, that *guestes held to board*, *miser *took in boarders*

And of his craft he was a carpenter.

With him there was dwelling a poor scholer, Had learned art, but all his fantasy Was turned for to learn astrology.

He coude* a certain of conclusions *knew To deeme* by interrogations, *determine If that men asked him in certain hours, When that men should have drought or elles show'rs: Or if men asked him what shoulde fall Of everything, I may not reckon all.

This clerk was called Hendy* Nicholas; *gentle, handsome Of derne* love he knew and of solace; *secret, earnest And therewith he was sly and full privy, And like a maiden meek for to see.

A chamber had he in that hostelry Alone, withouten any company, Full *fetisly y-dight* with herbes swoot*, *neatly decorated*

And he himself was sweet as is the root *sweet Of liquorice, or any setewall*. *valerian His Almagest,<1> and bookes great and small, His astrolabe,<2> belonging to his art, His augrim stones,<3> layed fair apart On shelves couched* at his bedde's head, *laid, set His press y-cover'd with a falding* red. *coa.r.s.e cloth And all above there lay a gay psalt'ry On which he made at nightes melody, So sweetely, that all the chamber rang: And Angelus ad virginem<4> he sang.

And after that he sung the kinge's note; Full often blessed was his merry throat.

And thus this sweete clerk his time spent After *his friendes finding and his rent.* *Attending to his friends, and providing for the cost of his lodging*

This carpenter had wedded new a wife, Which that he loved more than his life: Of eighteen year, I guess, she was of age.

Jealous he was, and held her narr'w in cage, For she was wild and young, and he was old, And deemed himself belike* a cuckold. *perhaps He knew not Cato,<5> for his wit was rude, That bade a man wed his similitude.

Men shoulde wedden after their estate, For youth and eld* are often at debate. *age But since that he was fallen in the snare, He must endure (as other folk) his care.

Fair was this younge wife, and therewithal As any weasel her body gent* and small. *slim, neat A seint* she weared, barred all of silk, *girdle A barm-cloth* eke as white as morning milk *ap.r.o.n<6> Upon her lendes*, full of many a gore**. *loins **plait White was her smock*, and broider'd all before, *robe or gown And eke behind, on her collar about Of coal-black silk, within and eke without.

The tapes of her white volupere* *head-kerchief <7> Were of the same suit of her collere; Her fillet broad of silk, and set full high: And sickerly* she had a likerous** eye. *certainly **lascivious Full small y-pulled were her browes two, And they were bent*, and black as any sloe. *arched She was well more *blissful on to see* *pleasant to look upon*

Than is the newe perjenete* tree; *young pear-tree And softer than the wool is of a wether.

And by her girdle hung a purse of leather, Ta.s.sel'd with silk, and *pearled with latoun*. *set with bra.s.s pearls*

In all this world to seeken up and down There is no man so wise, that coude thenche* *fancy, think of So gay a popelot*, or such a wench. *puppet <8> Full brighter was the shining of her hue, Than in the Tower the n.o.ble* forged new. *a gold coin <9> But of her song, it was as loud and yern*, *lively <10> As any swallow chittering on a bern*. *barn Thereto* she coulde skip, and *make a game* *also *romp*

As any kid or calf following his dame.

Her mouth was sweet as braket,<11> or as methe* *mead Or h.o.a.rd of apples, laid in hay or heath.

Wincing* she was as is a jolly colt, *skittish Long as a mast, and upright as a bolt.

A brooch she bare upon her low collere, As broad as is the boss of a bucklere.

Her shoon were laced on her legges high; She was a primerole,* a piggesnie <12>, *primrose For any lord t' have ligging* in his bed, *lying Or yet for any good yeoman to wed.

Now, sir, and eft* sir, so befell the case, *again That on a day this Hendy Nicholas Fell with this younge wife to rage* and play, *toy, play the rogue While that her husband was at Oseney,<13> As clerkes be full subtle and full quaint.

And privily he caught her by the queint,* *c.u.n.t And said; "Y-wis,* but if I have my will, *a.s.suredly For *derne love of thee, leman, I spill."* *for earnest love of thee And helde her fast by the haunche bones, my mistress, I perish*

And saide "Leman, love me well at once, Or I will dien, all so G.o.d me save."

And she sprang as a colt doth in the trave<14>: And with her head she writhed fast away, And said; "I will not kiss thee, by my fay*. *faith Why let be," quoth she, "let be, Nicholas, Or I will cry out harow and alas!<15> Do away your handes, for your courtesy."

This Nicholas gan mercy for to cry, And spake so fair, and proffer'd him so fast, That she her love him granted at the last, And swore her oath by Saint Thomas of Kent, That she would be at his commandement, When that she may her leisure well espy.

"My husband is so full of jealousy, That but* ye waite well, and be privy, *unless I wot right well I am but dead," quoth she.

"Ye muste be full derne* as in this case." *secret "Nay, thereof care thee nought," quoth Nicholas: "A clerk had *litherly beset his while*, *ill spent his time*

*But if* he could a carpenter beguile." *unless And thus they were accorded and y-sworn To wait a time, as I have said beforn.

When Nicholas had done thus every deal*, *whit And thwacked her about the lendes* well, *loins He kiss'd her sweet, and taketh his psalt'ry And playeth fast, and maketh melody.

Then fell it thus, that to the parish church, Of Christe's owen workes for to wirch*, *work This good wife went upon a holy day; Her forehead shone as bright as any day, So was it washen, when she left her werk.

Now was there of that church a parish clerk, The which that was y-cleped Absolon.

Curl'd was his hair, and as the gold it shone, And strutted* as a fanne large and broad; *stretched Full straight and even lay his jolly shode*. *head of hair His rode* was red, his eyen grey as goose, *complexion With Paule's windows carven on his shoes <16> In hosen red he went full fetisly*. *daintily, neatly Y-clad he was full small and properly, All in a kirtle* of a light waget*; *girdle **sky blue Full fair and thicke be the pointes set, And thereupon he had a gay surplice, As white as is the blossom on the rise*. *twig <17> A merry child he was, so G.o.d me save; Well could he letten blood, and clip, and shave, And make a charter of land, and a quittance.

In twenty manners could he trip and dance, After the school of Oxenforde tho*,<18> *then And with his legges caste to and fro; And playen songes on a small ribible*; *fiddle Thereto he sung sometimes a loud quinible* *treble And as well could he play on a gitern.* *guitar In all the town was brewhouse nor tavern, That he not visited with his solas*, *mirth, sport There as that any *garnard tapstere* was. *licentious barmaid*

But sooth to say he was somedeal squaimous* *squeamish Of farting, and of speeche dangerous.

This Absolon, that jolly was and gay, Went with a censer on the holy day, Censing* the wives of the parish fast; *burning incense for And many a lovely look he on them cast, And namely* on this carpenter's wife: *especially To look on her him thought a merry life.

She was so proper, and sweet, and likerous.

I dare well say, if she had been a mouse, And he a cat, he would *her hent anon*. *have soon caught her*

This parish clerk, this jolly Absolon, Hath in his hearte such a love-longing!

That of no wife took he none offering; For courtesy he said he woulde none.

The moon at night full clear and brighte shone, And Absolon his gitern hath y-taken, For paramours he thoughte for to waken, And forth he went, jolif* and amorous, *joyous Till he came to the carpentere's house, A little after the c.o.c.k had y-crow, And *dressed him* under a shot window <19>, *stationed himself.*

That was upon the carpentere's wall.

He singeth in his voice gentle and small; "Now, dear lady, if thy will be, I pray that ye will rue* on me;" *take pity Full well accordant to his giterning.

This carpenter awoke, and heard him sing, And spake unto his wife, and said anon, What Alison, hear'st thou not Absolon, That chanteth thus under our bower* wall?" *chamber And she answer'd her husband therewithal; "Yes, G.o.d wot, John, I hear him every deal."

This pa.s.seth forth; what will ye bet* than well? *better