The Canterbury Tales, and Other Poems Part 33

I saw you not this fortenight and more."

"G.o.d wot," quoth he, "labour'd have I full sore; And specially for thy salvation Have I said many a precious orison, And for mine other friendes, G.o.d them bless.

I have this day been at your church at mess,* *ma.s.s And said sermon after my simple wit, Not all after the text of Holy Writ; For it is hard to you, as I suppose, And therefore will I teach you aye the glose.* *gloss, comment Glosing is a full glorious thing certain, For letter slayeth, as we clerkes* sayn. *scholars There have I taught them to be charitable, And spend their good where it is reasonable.

And there I saw our dame; where is she?"

"Yonder I trow that in the yard she be,"

Saide this man; "and she will come anon."

"Hey master, welcome be ye by Saint John,"

Saide this wife; "how fare ye heartily?"

This friar riseth up full courteously, And her embraceth *in his armes narrow,* *closely And kiss'th her sweet, and chirketh as a sparrow With his lippes: "Dame," quoth he, "right well, As he that is your servant every deal.* *whit Thanked be G.o.d, that gave you soul and life, Yet saw I not this day so fair a wife In all the churche, G.o.d so save me,"

"Yea, G.o.d amend defaultes, Sir," quoth she; "Algates* welcome be ye, by my fay." *always "Grand mercy, Dame; that have I found alway.

But of your greate goodness, by your leave, I woulde pray you that ye not you grieve, I will with Thomas speak *a little throw:* *a little while*

These curates be so negligent and slow To grope tenderly a conscience.

In shrift* and preaching is my diligence *confession And study in Peter's wordes and in Paul's; I walk and fishe Christian menne's souls, To yield our Lord Jesus his proper rent; To spread his word is alle mine intent."

"Now by your faith, O deare Sir," quoth she, "Chide him right well, for sainte charity.

He is aye angry as is a pismire,* *ant Though that he have all that he can desire, Though I him wrie* at night, and make him warm, *cover And ov'r him lay my leg and eke mine arm, He groaneth as our boar that lies in sty: Other disport of him right none have I, I may not please him in no manner case."

"O Thomas, *je vous dis,* Thomas, Thomas, *I tell you*

This *maketh the fiend,* this must be amended. *is the devil's work*

Ire is a thing that high G.o.d hath defended,* *forbidden And thereof will I speak a word or two."

"Now, master," quoth the wife, "ere that I go, What will ye dine? I will go thereabout."

"Now, Dame," quoth he, "je vous dis sans doute, <9> Had I not of a capon but the liver, And of your white bread not but a shiver,* *thin slice And after that a roasted pigge's head, (But I would that for me no beast were dead,) Then had I with you homely suffisance.

I am a man of little sustenance.

My spirit hath its fost'ring in the Bible.

My body is aye so ready and penible* *painstaking To wake,* that my stomach is destroy'd. *watch I pray you, Dame, that ye be not annoy'd, Though I so friendly you my counsel shew; By G.o.d, I would have told it but to few."

"Now, Sir," quoth she, "but one word ere I go; My child is dead within these weeke's two, Soon after that ye went out of this town."

"His death saw I by revelatioun,"

Said this friar, "at home in our dortour.* *dormitory <10> I dare well say, that less than half an hour Mter his death, I saw him borne to bliss In mine vision, so G.o.d me wiss.* *direct So did our s.e.xton, and our fermerere,* *infirmary-keeper That have been true friars fifty year, -- They may now, G.o.d be thanked of his love, Make their jubilee, and walk above.<12> And up I rose, and all our convent eke, With many a teare trilling on my cheek, Withoute noise or clattering of bells, Te Deum was our song, and nothing else, Save that to Christ I bade an orison, Thanking him of my revelation.

For, Sir and Dame, truste me right well, Our orisons be more effectuel, And more we see of Christe's secret things, Than *borel folk,* although that they be kings. *laymen*<13> We live in povert', and in abstinence, And borel folk in riches and dispence Of meat and drink, and in their foul delight.

We have this worlde's l.u.s.t* all in despight** * pleasure **contempt Lazar and Dives lived diversely, And diverse guerdon* hadde they thereby. *reward Whoso will pray, he must fast and be clean, And fat his soul, and keep his body lean We fare as saith th' apostle; cloth* and food *clothing Suffice us, although they be not full good.

The cleanness and the fasting of us freres Maketh that Christ accepteth our prayeres.

Lo, Moses forty days and forty night Fasted, ere that the high G.o.d full of might Spake with him in the mountain of Sinai: With empty womb* of fasting many a day *stomach Received he the lawe, that was writ With G.o.dde's finger; and Eli,<14> well ye wit,* *know In Mount h.o.r.eb, ere he had any speech With highe G.o.d, that is our live's leech,* *physician, healer He fasted long, and was in contemplance.

Aaron, that had the temple in governance, And eke the other priestes every one, Into the temple when they shoulde gon To praye for the people, and do service, They woulde drinken in no manner wise No drinke, which that might them drunken make, But there in abstinence pray and wake, Lest that they died: take heed what I say -- But* they be sober that for the people pray -- *unless Ware that, I say -- no more: for it sufficeth.

Our Lord Jesus, as Holy Writ deviseth,* *narrates Gave us example of fasting and prayeres: Therefore we mendicants, we sely* freres, *simple, lowly Be wedded to povert' and continence, To charity, humbless, and abstinence, To persecution for righteousness, To weeping, misericorde,* and to cleanness. *compa.s.sion And therefore may ye see that our prayeres (I speak of us, we mendicants, we freres), Be to the highe G.o.d more acceptable Than youres, with your feastes at your table.

From Paradise first, if I shall not lie, Was man out chased for his gluttony, And chaste was man in Paradise certain.

But hark now, Thomas, what I shall thee sayn; I have no text of it, as I suppose, But I shall find it in *a manner glose;* *a kind of comment*

That specially our sweet Lord Jesus Spake this of friars, when he saide thus, 'Blessed be they that poor in spirit be'

And so forth all the gospel may ye see, Whether it be liker our profession, Or theirs that swimmen in possession; Fy on their pomp, and on their gluttony, And on their lewedness! I them defy.

Me thinketh they be like Jovinian,<15> Fat as a whale, and walking as a swan; All vinolent* as bottle in the spence;** *full of wine **store-room Their prayer is of full great reverence; When they for soules say the Psalm of David, Lo, 'Buf' they say, Cor meum eructavit.<16> Who follow Christe's gospel and his lore* *doctrine But we, that humble be, and chaste, and pore,* *poor Workers of G.o.dde's word, not auditours?* *hearers Therefore right as a hawk *upon a sours* *rising*

Up springs into the air, right so prayeres Of charitable and chaste busy freres *Make their sours* to G.o.dde's eares two. *rise*

Thomas, Thomas, so may I ride or go, And by that lord that called is Saint Ive, *N'ere thou our brother, shouldest thou not thrive;* *see note <17>*

In our chapiter pray we day and night To Christ, that he thee sende health and might, Thy body for to *wielde hastily.* *soon be able to move freely*

"G.o.d wot," quoth he, "nothing thereof feel I; So help me Christ, as I in fewe years Have spended upon *divers manner freres* *friars of various sorts*

Full many a pound, yet fare I ne'er the bet;* *better Certain my good have I almost beset:* *spent Farewell my gold, for it is all ago."* *gone The friar answer'd, "O Thomas, dost thou so?

What needest thou diverse friars to seech?* *seek What needeth him that hath a perfect leech,* *healer To seeken other leeches in the town?

Your inconstance is your confusioun.

Hold ye then me, or elles our convent, To praye for you insufficient?

Thomas, that j.a.pe* it is not worth a mite; *jest Your malady is *for we have too lite.* *because we have Ah, give that convent half a quarter oats; too little*

And give that convent four and twenty groats; And give that friar a penny, and let him go!

Nay, nay, Thomas, it may no thing be so.

What is a farthing worth parted on twelve?

Lo, each thing that is oned* in himselve *made one, united Is more strong than when it is y-scatter'd.

Thomas, of me thou shalt not be y-flatter'd, Thou wouldest have our labour all for nought.

The highe G.o.d, that all this world hath wrought, Saith, that the workman worthy is his hire Thomas, nought of your treasure I desire As for myself, but that all our convent To pray for you is aye so diligent: And for to builde Christe's owen church.

Thomas, if ye will learne for to wirch,* *work Of building up of churches may ye find If it be good, in Thomas' life of Ind.<18> Ye lie here full of anger and of ire, With which the devil sets your heart on fire, And chide here this holy innocent Your wife, that is so meek and patient.

And therefore trow* me, Thomas, if thee lest,** *believe **please Ne strive not with thy wife, as for the best.

And bear this word away now, by thy faith, Touching such thing, lo, what the wise man saith: 'Within thy house be thou no lion; To thy subjects do none oppression; Nor make thou thine acquaintance for to flee.'

And yet, Thomas, eftsoones* charge I thee, *again Beware from ire that in thy bosom sleeps, Ware from the serpent, that so slily creeps Under the gra.s.s, and stingeth subtilly.

Beware, my son, and hearken patiently, That twenty thousand men have lost their lives For striving with their lemans* and their wives. *mistresses Now since ye have so holy and meek a wife, What needeth you, Thomas, to make strife?

There is, y-wis,* no serpent so cruel, *certainly When men tread on his tail nor half so fell,* *fierce As woman is, when she hath caught an ire; Very* vengeance is then all her desire. *pure, only Ire is a sin, one of the greate seven, Abominable to the G.o.d of heaven, And to himself it is destruction.

This every lewed* vicar and parson *ignorant Can say, how ire engenders homicide; Ire is in sooth th' executor* of pride. *executioner I could of ire you say so muche sorrow, My tale shoulde last until to-morrow.

And therefore pray I G.o.d both day and ight, An irous* man G.o.d send him little might. *pa.s.sionate It is great harm, and certes great pity To set an irous man in high degree.

"Whilom* there was an irous potestate,** *once **judge<19> As saith Senec, that during his estate* *term of office Upon a day out rode knightes two; And, as fortune would that it were so, The one of them came home, the other not.

Anon the knight before the judge is brought, That saide thus; 'Thou hast thy fellow slain, For which I doom thee to the death certain.'

And to another knight commanded he; 'Go, lead him to the death, I charge thee.'

And happened, as they went by the way Toward the place where as he should dey,* *die The knight came, which men weened* had been dead *thought Then thoughte they it was the beste rede* *counsel To lead them both unto the judge again.

They saide, 'Lord, the knight hath not y-slain His fellow; here he standeth whole alive.'

'Ye shall be dead,' quoth he, 'so may I thrive, That is to say, both one, and two, and three.'

And to the firste knight right thus spake he: 'I d.a.m.ned thee, thou must algate* be dead: *at all events And thou also must needes lose thine head, For thou the cause art why thy fellow dieth.'

And to the thirde knight right thus he sayeth, 'Thou hast not done that I commanded thee.'

And thus he did do slay them alle three.

Irous Cambyses was eke dronkelew,* *a drunkard And aye delighted him to be a shrew.* *vicious, ill-tempered And so befell, a lord of his meinie,* *suite That loved virtuous morality, Said on a day betwixt them two right thus: 'A lord is lost, if he be vicious.

[An irous man is like a frantic beast, In which there is of wisdom *none arrest*;] *no control*

And drunkenness is eke a foul record Of any man, and namely* of a lord. *especially There is full many an eye and many an ear *Awaiting on* a lord, he knows not where. *watching For G.o.dde's love, drink more attemperly:* *temperately Wine maketh man to lose wretchedly His mind, and eke his limbes every one.'

'The reverse shalt thou see,' quoth he, 'anon, And prove it by thine own experience, That wine doth to folk no such offence.

There is no wine bereaveth me my might Of hand, nor foot, nor of mine eyen sight.'

And for despite he dranke muche more A hundred part* than he had done before, *times And right anon this cursed irous wretch This knighte's sone let* before him fetch, *caused Commanding him he should before him stand: And suddenly he took his bow in hand, And up the string he pulled to his ear, And with an arrow slew the child right there.

'Now whether have I a sicker* hand or non?'** *sure **not Quoth he; 'Is all my might and mind agone?

Hath wine bereaved me mine eyen sight?'

Why should I tell the answer of the knight?

His son was slain, there is no more to say.

Beware therefore with lordes how ye play,* *use freedom Sing placebo;<20> and I shall if I can, *But if* it be unto a poore man: *unless To a poor man men should his vices tell, But not t' a lord, though he should go to h.e.l.l.

Lo, irous Cyrus, thilke* Persian, *that How he destroy'd the river of Gisen,<21> For that a horse of his was drowned therein, When that he wente Babylon to win: He made that the river was so small, That women mighte wade it *over all.* *everywhere Lo, what said he, that so well teache can, 'Be thou no fellow to an irous man, Nor with no wood* man walke by the way, *furious Lest thee repent;' I will no farther say.

"Now, Thomas, leve* brother, leave thine ire, *dear Thou shalt me find as just as is as squire; Hold not the devil's knife aye at thine heaat; Thine anger doth thee all too sore smart;* *pain But shew to me all thy confession."

"Nay," quoth the sicke man, "by Saint Simon I have been shriven* this day of my curate; *confessed I have him told all wholly mine estate.

Needeth no more to speak of it, saith he, But if me list of mine humility."

"Give me then of thy good to make our cloister,"

Quoth he, "for many a mussel and many an oyster, When other men have been full well at ease, Hath been our food, our cloister for to rese:* *raise, build And yet, G.o.d wot, unneth* the foundement** *scarcely **foundation Performed is, nor of our pavement Is not a tile yet within our wones:* *habitation By G.o.d, we owe forty pound for stones.

Now help, Thomas, for *him that harrow'd h.e.l.l,* *Christ <22> For elles must we oure bookes sell, And if ye lack our predication, Then goes this world all to destruction.

For whoso from this world would us bereave, So G.o.d me save, Thomas, by your leave, He would bereave out of this world the sun For who can teach and worken as we conne?* *know how to do And that is not of little time (quoth he), But since Elijah was, and Elisee,* *Elisha Have friars been, that find I of record, In charity, y-thanked be our Lord.

Now, Thomas, help for sainte charity."

And down anon he set him on his knee, The sick man waxed well-nigh wood* for ire, *mad He woulde that the friar had been a-fire With his false dissimulation.

"Such thing as is in my possession,"

Quoth he, "that may I give you and none other: Ye say me thus, how that I am your brother."

"Yea, certes," quoth this friar, "yea, truste well; I took our Dame the letter of our seal"<23> "Now well," quoth he, "and somewhat shall I give Unto your holy convent while I live; And in thine hand thou shalt it have anon, On this condition, and other none, That thou depart* it so, my deare brother, *divide That every friar have as much as other: This shalt thou swear on thy profession, Withoute fraud or cavillation."* *quibbling "I swear it," quoth the friar, "upon my faith."

And therewithal his hand in his he lay'th; "Lo here my faith, in me shall be no lack."