The Canterbury Tales

Fragment V

The Franklin's Tale

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Heere bigynneth the

Frankeleyns Tale.

In armorik, that called is britayne,

730

Ther was a knyght that loved and dide his payne

To serve a lady in his beste wise;

And many a labour, many a greet emprise

He for his lady wroghte, er she were wonne.

For she was oon the faireste under sonne,

735

And eek therto comen of so heigh kynrede

That wel unnethes dorste this knyght, drede,

Telle hire his wo, his peyne, and his distresse.

But atte laste she, for his worthynesse,

And namely for his meke obeysaunce,

740

Hath swich a pitee caught of his penaunce

That pryvely she fil of his accord

To take hym for hir housbonde and hir lord,

Of swich lordshipe as men han over hir wyves.

And for to lede the moore in blisse hir lyves,

745

Of his free wyl he swoor hire as a knyght

That nevere in al his lyf he, day ne nyght,

Ne sholde upon hym take no maistrie

Agayn hir wyl, ne kithe hire jalousie,

But hire obeye, and folwe hir wyl in al,

750

As any lovere to his lady shal,

Save that the name of soveraynetee,

That wolde he have for shame of his degree.

She thanked hym, and with ful greet humblesse

She seyde, sire, sith of youre gentillesse

755

Ye profre me to have so large a reyne,

Ne wolde nevere God bitwixe us tweyne,

As in my gilt, were outher werre or stryf.

Sire, I wol be youre humble trewe wyf;

Have heer my trouthe, til that myn herte breste.

760

Thus been they bothe in quiete and in reste.

For o thyng, sires, saufly dar I seye,

That freendes everych oother moot obeye,

If they wol longe holden compaignye.

Love wol nat been constreyned by maistrye.

765

Whan maistrie comth, the God of love anon

Beteth his wynges, and farewel, he is gon!

Love is a thyng as any spirit free.

Wommen, of kynde, desiren libertee,

And nat to been constreyned as a thral;

770

And so doon men, if I sooth seyen shal.

Looke who that is moost pacient in love,

He is at his advantage al above.

Pacience is an heigh vertu, certeyn,

For it venquysseth, as thise clerkes seyn,

775

Thynges that rigour sholde nevere atteyne.

For every word men may nat chide or pleyne.

Lerneth to suffre, or elles, so moot I goon,

Ye shul it lerne, wher so ye wole or noon;

For in this world, certein, ther no wight is

780

That he ne dooth or seith somtyme amys.

Ire, siknesse, or constellacioun,

Wyn, wo, or chaungynge of complexioun

Causeth ful ofte to doon amys or speken.

On every wrong a man may nat be wreken.

785

After the tyme moste be temperaunce

To every wight that kan on governaunce.

And therfore hath this wise, worthy knyght,

To lyve in ese, suffrance hire bihight,

And she to hym ful wisly gan to swere

790

That nevere sholde ther be defaunte in here.

Heere may men seen an humble, wys accord;

Thus hath she take hir servant and hir lord, –

Servant in love, and lord in mariage.

Thanne was he bothe in lordshipe and servage.

795

Servage? nay, but in lordshipe above,

Sith he hath bothe his lady and his love;

His lady, certes, and his wyf also,

The which that lawe of love acordeth to.

And whan he was in this prosperitee,

800

Hoom with his wyf he gooth to his contree,

Nat fer fro pedmark, ther his dwellyng was,

Where as he lyveth in blisse and in solas.

Who koude telle, but he hadde wedded be,

The joye, the ese, and the prosperitee

805

That is bitwixe and housbonde and his wyf?

A yeer and moore lasted this blisful lyf,

Til that the knyght of which I speke thus,

That of kayrrud was cleped arveragus,

Shoop hym to goon and dwelle a yeer or tweyne

810

In engelond, that cleped was eek briteyne,

To seke in armes worshipe and honour;

For al his lust he sette in swich labour;

And dwelled there two yeer, the book seith thus.

now wol I stynten of this arveragus,

815

And speken I wole of dorigen his wyf,

That loveth hire housbonde as hire hertes lyf,

For his absence wepeth she and siketh,

As doon thise noble wyves whan hem liketh.

She moorneth, waketh, wayleth, fasteth, pleyneth;

820

Desir of his presence hire so destreyneth

That al this wyde world she sette at noght.

Hire freendes, whiche that knewe hir hevy thoght,

Conforten hire in al that ever they may.

They prechen hire, they telle hire nyght and day

825

That causelees she sleeth hirself, allas!

And every confort possible in this cas

They doon to hire with al hire bisynesse,

Al for to make hire leve hire hevynesse.

by process, as ye knowen everichoon,

830

Men may so longe graven in a stoon

Til som figure therinne emprented be.

So longe han they conforted hire, til she

Receyved hath, by hope and by resoun,

The empreyntyng of hire consolacioun,

835

Thurgh which hir grete sorwe gan aswage;

She may nat alwey duren in swich rage

and eek arveragus, in al this care,

Hath sent hire lettres hoom of his welfare,

And that he wol come hastily agayn;

840

Or elles hadde this sorwe hir herte slayn.

hire freendes sawe hir sorwe gan to slake,

And preyde hire on knees, for goddes sake,

To come and romen hire in compaignye,

Awey to dryve hire derke fantasye.

845

And finally she graunted that requeste,

For wel she saugh that it was for the beste.

now stood hire castel faste by the see,

And often with hire freendes walketh shee,

Hire to disporte, upon the bank an heigh,

850

Where as she many a ship and barge seigh

Seillynge hir cours, where as hem liste go.

But thanne was that a parcel of hire wo,

For to hirself ful ofte, allas! seith she,

Is ther no ship, of so manye as I se,

855

Wol bryngeth hom my lord? thanne were myn herte

Al warisshed of his bittre peynes smerte.

another tyme them wolde she sitte and thynke,

And caste hir eyen dounward fro the brynke.

But whan she saugh the grisly rokkes blake,

860

For verray feere so wolde hir herte quake

That on hire feet she myghte hire noght sustene.

Thanne wolde she sitte adoun upon the grene,

And pitously into the see biholde,

And seyn right thus, with sorweful sikes colde –

865

eterne god, that thurgh thy purveiaunce

Ledest the world by certein governaunce,

In ydel, as men seyn, ye no thyng make,

But, lord, thise grisly feendly rokkes blake,

That semen rather a foul confusion

870

Of werk than any fair creacion

Of swich a parfit wys God and a stable

Why han ye wroght this werk unresonable?

For by this werk, south, north, ne west, ne eest,

Ther nys yfostred man, ne bryd, ne beest;

875

It dooth no good, to my wit, but anoyeth.

So ye nat, lord, how mankynde it destroyeth?

An hundred thousand bodyes of mankynde

Han rokkes slayn, al be they nat in mynde,

Which mankynde is so fair part of thy werk

880

That thou it madest lyk to thyn owene merk.

Thanne semed it ye hadde a greet chiertee

Toward mankynde; but how thanne may it bee

That ye swiche meenes make it to destroyen,

Whiche meenes do no good, but evere anoyen?

885

I woot wel clerkes wol seyn as hem leste,

By argumentz, that al is for the beste,

Though I ne kan the causes nat yknowe.

But thilke God that made wynd to blowe

As kepe my lord! this my conclusion.

890

To clerkes lete I al disputison.

But wolde God that alle thise rokkes blake

Were sonken into helle for his sake!

Thise rokkes sleen myn herte for the feere.

Thus wolde she seyn, with many a pitous teere.

895

hire freendes sawe that it was no disport

To romen by the see, but disconfort,

And shopen for to pleyen somwher elles.

They leden hire by ryveres and by welles,

And eek in othere places delitables;

900

They dauncen, and they pleyen at ches and tables.

so on a day, right in the morwe-tyde,

Unto a gardyn that was ther bisyde,

In which that they hadde maad hir ordinaunce

Of vitaille and of oother purveiaunce,

905

They goon and pleye hem al the longe day.

And this was on the sixte morwe of may,

Which may hadde peynted with his softe shoures

This gardyn ful of leves and of floures;

And craft of mannes hand so curiously

910

Arrayed hadde this gardyn, trewely,

That nevere was ther gardyn of swich prys,

But if it were the verray paradys.

The odour of floures and the fresshe sighte

Wolde han maked any herte lighte

915

That evere was born, but if to greet siknesse,

Or to greet sorwe, helde it in distresse;

So ful it was of beautee with plesaunce.

At after-dyner gonne they to daunce,

And synge also, save dorigen allone,

920

Which made alwey hir compleint and hir moone,

For she ne saugh hym on the daunce go

That was hir housbonde and hir love also.

But nathelees she moste a tyme abyde,

And with good hope lete hir sorwe slyde.

925

upon this daunce, amonges othere men,

Daunced a squier biforn dorigen,

That fressher was and jolyer of array,

As to my doom, than is the month of may.

He syngeth, daunceth, passynge any man

930

That is, or was, sith that the world bigan.

Therwith he was, if men sholde hym discryve,

Oon of the beste farynge man on lyve;

Yong, strong, right vertuous, and riche, and wys,

And wel biloved, and holden in greet prys.

935

And shortly, if the sothe I tellen shal,

Unwityng of this dorigen at al,

This lusty squier, servant to venus,

Which that ycleped was aurelius,

Hadde loved hire best of any creature

940

Two yeer and moore, as was his aventure,

But nevere dorste he tellen hire his grevaunce.

Withouten coppe he drank al his penaunce.

He was despeyred; no thyng dorste he seye,

Save in his songes somwhat wolde he wreye

945

His wo, as in a general compleynyng;

He seyde he lovede, and was biloved no thyng.

Of swich matere made he manye layes,

Songes, compleintes, roundels, virelayes,

How that he dorste nat his sorwe telle,

950

But langwissheth as a furye dooth in helle;

And dye he moste, he seyde, as dide ekko

For narcisus, that dorste nat telle hir wo.

In oother manere than ye heere me seye,

Ne dorste he nat to hire his wo biwreye,

955

Save that, paraventure, somtyme at daunces,

Ther yonge folk kepen hir observaunces,

It may wel be he looked on hir face

In swich a wise as man that asketh grace;

But nothyng wiste she of his entente.

960

Nathelees it happed, er they thennes wente,

By cause that he was hire neighebour,

And was a man of worshipe and honour,

And hadde yknowen hym of tyme yoore,

They fille in speche; and forth, moore and moore,

965

Unto his purpos drough aurelius,

and whan he saugh his tyme, he seyde thus –

madame, quod he, by God that this world made,

So that I wiste it myghte youre herte glade,

I wolde that day that youre arveragus

970

Wente over the see, that I, aurelius,

Hadde went ther nevere I sholde have come agayn.

For wel I woot my servyce is in vayn;

My gerdon is but brestyng of myn herte.

Madame, reweth upon my peynes smerte;

975

For with a word ye may me sleen or save.

Heere at youre feet God wolde that I were grave!

I ne have as now no leyser moore to seye;

Have mercy, sweete, or ye wol do me deye!

she gan to looke upon aurelius –

980

Is this youre wyl, quod she, and sey ye thus?

Nevere erst, quod she, ne wiste I what ye mente.

But now, aurelie, I knowe your entente,

By thilke God that yaf me soule and lyf,

Ne shal I nevere been untrewe wyf

985

In word ne werk, as fer as I have wit;

I wol been his to whom that I am knyt.

Taak this for fynal answere as of me.

But after that in pley thus seyde she –

aurelie, quod she, by heighe God above,

990

Yet wolde I graunte yow to been youre love,

Syn I yow se so pitously complayne.

Looke what day that endelong britayne

Ye remoeve alle the rokkes, stoon by stoon,

That they ne lette ship ne boot to goon, –

995

I seye, whan ye han maad the coost so clene

Of rokkes that ther nys no stoon ysene,

Thanne wol I love yow best of any man,

Have heer my trouthe, in al that evere I kan.

Is ther noon oother grace in yow? quod he.

1000

no, by that lord, quod she, that maked me!

For wel I woot that it shal never bityde.

Lat swiche folies out of youre herte slyde.

What deyntee sholde a man han in his lyf

For to go love another mannes wyf,

1005

That hath hir body whan so that hym liketh?

aurelius ful ofte soore siketh;

Wo was aurelie whan that he this herde,

And with a sorweful herte he thus answerde;

madame, quod he, this were inpossible!

1010

Thanne moot I dye of sodeyn deth horrible.

And with that word he turned hym anon.

Tho coome hir othere freendes many oon,

And in the aleyes romeden up and doun,

And nothyng wiste of this conclusioun,

1015

But sodeynly bigonne revel newe

Til that the brighte sonne loste his hewe;

For th'orisonte hath reft the sonne his lyght, –

This is as muche to seye as it was nyght! –

And hoom they goon in joye and in solas,

1020

Save oonly wrecche aurelius, allas!

He to his hous is goon with sorweful herte.

He seeth he may nat fro his deeth asterte;

Hym semed that he felte his herte colde.

Up to the hevene his handes he gan holde,

1025

And on his knowes bare he sette hym doun,

And in his ravyng seyde his orisoun.

For verray wo out of his wit he breyde.

He nyste what he spak, but thus he seyde;

With pitous herte his pleynt hath bigonne

1030

Unto the goddes, and first unto the sonne;

he seyde, appollo, God and governour

Of every plaunte, herbe, tree, and flour,

That yevest, after thy declinacion,

To ech of hem his tyme and his seson,

1035

As thyn herberwe chaungeth lowe or heighe,

Lord phebus, cast thy merciable eighe

On wrecche aurelie, which that am but lorn.

Lo, lord! my lady hath my deeth ysworn

Withoute gilt, but thy benignytee

1040

Upon my dedly herte have som pitee.

For wel I woot, lord phebus, if yow lest,

Ye may me helpen, save my lady, best.

Now voucheth sauf that I may yow devyse

How that I may been holpen and in what wyse.

1045

youre blisful suster, lucina the sheene,

That of the see is chief goddesse and queene

(though neptunus have deitee in the see,,

Yet emperisse aboven hym is she),

Ye knowen wel, lord, that right as hir desir

1050

Is to be quyked and lighted of youre fir,

For which she folweth yow ful bisily,

Right so the see desireth naturelly

To folwen hire, as she that is goddesse

Bothe in the see and ryveres moore and lesse.

1055

Wherfore, lord phebus, this is my requeste –

Do this miracle, or do myn herte breste –

That now next at this opposicion

Which in the signe shal be of the leon,

As preieth hire so greet a flood to brynge

1060

That fyve fadme at the leeste it oversprynge

The hyeste rokke in armorik briteyne;

And lat this flood endure yeres tweyne.

Thanne certes to my lady may I seye,

'holdeth youre heste, the rokkes been aweye.'

1065

lord phebus, dooth this miracle for me.

Preye hire she go no faster cours than ye;

I seye, preyeth your suster that she go

No faster cours than ye thise yeres two.

Thanne shal she been evene atte fulle alwey,

1070

And spryng flood laste bothe nyght and day.

And but she vouche sauf in swich manere

To graunte me my sovereyn lady deere,

Prey hire to synken every rok adoun

Into hir owene dirke regioun

1075

Under the ground, ther pluto dwelleth inne,

Or nevere mo shal I my lady wynne.

Thy temple in delphos wol I barefoot seke.

Lord phebus, se the teris on my cheke,

And of my peyne have som compassioun.

1080

And with that word in swowne he fil adoun,

And longe tyme he lay forth in a traunce.

his brother, which that knew of his penaunce,

Up caughte hym, and to bedde he hath hym broght.

Dispeyred in this torment and this thoght

1085

Lete I this woful creature lye;

Chese he, for me, wheither he wol lyve or dye.

arveragus, with heele and greet honour,

As he that was of chivalrie the flour,

Is comen hoom, and othere worthy men.

1090

O blisful artow now, thou dorigen,

That hast thy lusty housbonde in thyne armes,

The fresshe knyght, the worthy man of armes,

That loveth thee as his owene hertes lyf.

No thyng list hym to been ymaginatyf,

1095

If any wight hadde spoke, whil he was oute,

To hire of love; he hadde of it no doute.

He noght entendeth to no swich mateere,

But daunceth, justeth, maketh hire good cheere;

And thus in joye and blisse I lete hem dwelle,

1100

And of the sike aurelius wol I telle.

in langour and in torment furyus

Two yeer and moore lay wrecche aurelyus,

Er any foot he myghte on erthe gon;

Ne confort in this tyme hadde he noon,

1105

Save of his brother, which that was a clerk.

He knew of al this wo and al this werk;

For to noon oother creature, certeyn,

Of this matere he dorste no word seyn.

Under his brest he baar it moore secree

1110

Than evere dide pamphilus for galathee.

His brest was hool, withoute for to sene,

But in his herte ay was the arwe kene.

And wel ye knowe that of a sursanure

In surgerye is perilus the cure,

1115

But men myghte touche the arwe, or come therby.

His brother weep and wayled pryvely,

Til atte laste hym fil in remembraunce,

That whiles he was at orliens in fraunce,

As yonge clerkes, that been lykerous

1120

To redern artes that been curious,

Seken in every halke and every herne

Particuler sciences for to lerne –

He hym remembred that, upon a day,

At orliens in studie a book he say

1125

Of magyk natureel, which his felawe,

That was that tyme a bacheler of lawe,

Al were he ther to lerne another craft,

Hadde prively upon his desk ylaft;

Which book spak muchel of the operaciouns

1130

Touchynge the eighte and twenty mansiouns

That longen to the moone, and swich folye

As in oure dayes is nat worth a flye, –

For hooly chirches feith in our bileve

Ne suffreth noon illusioun us to greve.

1135

And whan this book was in his remembraunce,

Anon for joye his herte gan to daunce,

And to hymself he seyde pryvely;

My brother shal be warisshed hastily;

For I am siker that ther be sciences

1140

By whiche men make diverse apparences,

Swiche as thise subtile tregetoures pleye.

For ofte at feestes have I wel herd seye

That tregetours, withinne an halle large,

Have maad come in a water and a barge,

1145

And in the halle rowen up and doun.

Somtyme hath semed come a grym leoun;

And sometyme floures sprynge as in a mede;

Somtyme a vyne, and grapes white and rede;

Somtyme a castel, al of lym and stoon;

1150

And whan hem lyked, voyded it anon.

Thus semed it to every mannes sighte.

Now thanne conclude I thus, that if I myghte

At orliens som oold felawe yfynde

That hadde thise moones mansions in mynde,

1155

Or oother magyk natureel above,

He sholde wel make my brother han his love.

For with an apparence a clerk may make,

To mannes sighte, that alle the rokkes blake

Of britaigne weren yvoyded everichon,

1160

And shippes by the brynke comen and gon,

And in swich forme enduren a wowke or two.

Thanne were my brother warisshed of his wo;

Thanne moste she nedes holden hire biheste,

Or elles he shal shame hire atte leeste.

1165

what sholde I make a lenger tale of this?

Unto his brotheres bed he comen is,

And swich confort he yaf hym for to gon

To orliens that he up stirte anon,

And on his wey forthward thanne is he fare

1170

In hope for to been lissed of his care.

whan they were come almoost to that citee,

But if it were a two furlong or thre,

A yong clerk romynge by hymself they mette,

Which that in latyn thriftily hem grette,

1175

And after that he seyde a wonder thyng –

I knowe, quod he, the cause of youre comyng.

And er they ferther any foote wente,

He tolde hem al that was in hire entente.

this briton clerk hym asked of felawes

1180

The whiche that he had knowe in olde dawes,

And he answerde hym that they dede were,

For which he weep ful ofte many a teere.

doun of his hors aurelius lighte anon,

And with this magicien forth is he gon

1185

Hoom to his hous, and maden hem wel at ese.

Hem lakked no vitaille that myghte hem plese.

So wel arrayed hous as ther was oon

Aurelius in his lyf saugh nevere noon.

he shewed hym, er he wente to sopeer,

1190

Forestes, parkes ful of wilde deer;

Ther saugh he hertes with hir hornes hye,

The gretteste that evere were seyn with ye.

He saugh of hem an hondred slayn with houndes,

And somme with arwes blede of bittre woundes.

1195

He saugh, whan voyded were thise wilde deer,

Thise fauconers upon a fair ryver,

That with hir haukes han the heron slayn.

tho saugh he knyghtes justyng in a playn;

And after this he dide hym swich plesaunce

1200

That he hym shewed his lady on a daunce,

On which hymself he daunced, as hym thoughte.

And whan this maister that this magyk wroughte

Saugh it was tyme, he clapte his handes two,

And farewel! al oure revel was ago,

1205

And yet remoeved they nevere out of the hous,

Whil they saugh al this sighte merveillous,

But in his studie, ther as his bookes be,

They seten stille, and no wight but they thre.

to hym this maister called his squier,

1210

And seyde hym thus – is redy oure soper?

Almoost an houre it is, I undertake,

Sith I yow bad oure soper for to make,

Whan that thise wrothy men wenten with me

Into my studie, ther as my bookes be.

1215

sire, quod this squier, whan it liketh yow,

It is al redy, though ye wol right now.

Go we thanne soupe, quod he, as for the beste.

Thise amorous folk somtyme moote han hir reste.

at after-soper fille they in tretee

1220

What somme sholde this maistres gerdon be,

To remoeven alle the rokkes of britayne,

And eek from gerounde to the mouth of sayne.

he made it straunge, and swoor, so God hym save,

Lasse than a thousand pound he wolde nat have,

1225

Ne gladly for than somme he wolde nat goon.

aurelius, with blisful herte anoon,

Answerde thus – fy on a thousand pound!

This wyde world, which that men seye is round,

I wolde it yeve, if I were lord of it.

1230

This bargayn is ful dryve, for we been knyt.

Ye shal be payed trewely, by my trouthe!

But looketh now, for no necligence or slouthe

Ye tarie us heere no lenger than to-morwe.

nay, quod this clerk, have heer my feith to borwe.

1235

to bedde is goon aurelius whan hym leste,

And wel ny al that nyght he hadde his reste.

What for his labour and his hope of blisse,

His woful herte of penaunce hadde a lisse.

upon the morwe, what that it was day,

1240

To britaigne tooke they the righte way,

Aurelius and this magicien bisyde,

And been descended ther they wolde abyde.

And this was, as thise bookes me remembre,

The colde, frosty seson of decembre.

1245

phebus wax old, and hewed lyk laton,

That in his hoote declynacion

Shoon as the burned gold with stremes brighte;

But now in capricorn adoun he lighte,

Where as he shoon ful pale, I dar wel seyn,

1250

The bittre frostes, with the sleet and reyn,

Destroyed hath the grene in every yerd.

Janus sit by the fyr, with double berd,

And drynketh of his bugle horn the wyn;

Biforn hym stant brawen of the tusked swyn,

1255

And nowel crieth every lusty man.

aurelius, in al that evere he kan,

Dooth to this maister chiere and reverence,

And preyeth hym to doon his diligence

To bryngen hym out of his peynes smerte,

1260

Or with swerd that he wolde slitte his herte.

this subtil clerk swich routhe had of this man

That nyght and day he spedde hym that he kan

To wayten a tyme of his conclusioun;

This is to seye, to maken illusioun,

1265

By swich an apparence or jogelrye –

I ne kan no termes of astrologye –

That she and every wight sholde wene and seye

That of britaigne the rokkes were aweye,

Or ellis they were sonken under grounde.

1270

So atte laste he hath his tyme yfounde

To maken his japes and his wrecchednesse

Of swich a supersticiuos cursednesse.

His tables tolletanes forth he brought,

Ful wel corrected, ne ther lakked nought,

1275

Neither his collect ne his expans yeeris,

Ne his rootes, ne his othere geeris,

As been his centris and his argumentz

And his proporcioneles convenientz

For his equacions in every thyng.

1280

And by his eighte speere in his wirkyng

He knew ful wel how fer alnath was shove

For the heed of thilke fixe aries above,

That in the ninthe speere considered is;

Ful subtilly he kalkulled al this.

1285

whan he hadde founde his firste mansioun,

He knew the remenaunt by propocioun,

And knew the arisyng of his moone weel,

And in whos face, and terme, and everydeel;

And knew ful weel the moones mansioun

1290

Acordaunt to his operacioun,

And knew also his othere observaunces

For swiche illusiouns and swiche meschaunces

As hethen folk useden in thilke dayes.

For which no lenger maked he delayes,

1295

But thurgh his magik, for a wyke or tweye,

It semed that alle the rokkes were aweye.

aurelius, which that yet despeired is

Wher he shal han his love or fare amys,

Awaitheth nyght and day on this myracle;

1300

And whan he knew that ther was noon obstacle,

That voyded were thise rokkes everychon,

Doun to his maistres feet he fil anon,

And seyde, I woful wrecche, aurelius,

Thanke yow, lord, and lady myn venus,

1305

That me han holpen fro my cares colde.

And to the temple his wey forth hath he holde,

Where as he knew he sholde his lady see.

And whan he saugh his tyme, anon-right hee,

With dredful herte and with ful humble cheere,

1310

Salewed hath his sovereyn lady deere –

my righte lady, quod this woful man,

Whom I moost drede and love as best I kan,

And lothest were of al this world displese,

Nere it that I for yow have swich disese

1315

That I moste dyen heere at youre foot anon,

Noght wolde I telle how me is wo bigon.

But certes outher moste I dye or pleyne;

Ye sle me giltelees for verray peyne.

But of my deeth thogh that ye have no routhe,

1320

Avyseth yow er that ye breke youre trouthe.

Repenteth yow, for thilke God above,

Er ye me sleen by cause that I yow love.

For, madame, wel ye woot what ye han hight –

Nat that I chalange any thyng of right

1325

Of yow, my sovereyn lady, but youre grace –

But in a gardyn yond, at swich a place,

Ye woot right wel what ye bihighten me;

And in my hand youre trouthe plighten ye

To love me best – God woot, ye seyde so,

1330

Al be that I unworthy am therto.

Madame, I speke it for the honour of yow

Moore than to save myn hertes lyf right now, –

I have do so as ye comanded me;

And if ye vouche sauf, ye may go see.

1335

Dooth as yow list; have youre biheste in mynde,

For, quyk or deed, right there ye shal me fynde.

In yow lith al to do me lyve or deye, –

But wel I woot the rokkes been aweye.

he taketh his leve, and she astoned stood;

1340

In al hir face nas a drope of blood.

She wende nevere han come in swich a trappe.

Allas, quod she, that evere this sholde happe!

For wende I nevere by possibilitee

That swich a monstre or merveille myghte be!

1345

It is agayns the proces of nature.

And hoom she goth a sorweful creature;

For verray feere unnethe may she go.

She wepeth, wailleth, al a day or two.

And swowneth, that it routhe was to see.

1350

But why it was to no wight tolde shee,

For out of towne was goon arveragus.

But to hirself she spak, and seyde thus,

With face pale and with ful sorweful cheere,

In hire compleynt, as ye shal after heere –

1355

allas, quod she, on thee, fortune, I pleyne,

That unwar wrapped hast me in thy cheyne,

Fro which t'escape woot I no socour,

Save oonly deeth or elles dishonour;

Oon of thise two bihoveth me to chese.

1360

But nathelees, yet have I levere to lese

My lif than of my body to have a shame,

Or knowe myselven fals, or lese my name;

And with my deth I may be quyt, ywis.

Hath ther nat many a noble wyf er this,

1365

And many a mayde, yslayn hirself, allas!

Rather than with hir body doon trespas?

yis, certes, lo, thise stories beren witnesse –

Whan thritty tirauntz, ful of cursednesse,

Hadde slayn phidon in atthenes atte feste,

1370

They comanded his doghtres for t'areste,

And bryngen hem biforn hem in despit,

Al naked, to fulfille hir foul delit,

And in hir fadres blood they made hem daunce

Upon the pavement, God yeve hem meschaunce!

1375

For which thise woful maydens, ful of drede,

Rather than they wolde lese hir maydenhede,

They prively been stirt into a welle,

And dreynte hemselven, as the bookes telle.

they of mecene leete enquere and seke

1380

Of lacedomye fifty maydens eke,

On whiche they wolden doon hir lecherye.

But was ther noon of al that compaignye

That she nas slayn, and with a good entente

Chees rather for to dye than assente

1385

To been oppressed of hir maydenhede.

Why sholde I thanne to dye been in drede?

Lo, eek, the tiraunt aristoclides,

That loved a mayden, heet stymphalides,

Whan that hir fader slayn was on a nyght,

1390

Unto dianes temple goth she right,

And hente the ymage in hir handes two,

Fro which ymage wolde she nevere go.

No wight ne myghte hir handes of it arace

Til she was slayn, right in the selve place.

1395

now sith that maydens hadden swich despit

To been defouled with mannes foul delit,

Wel oghte a wyf rather hirselven slee

Than be defouled, as it thynketh me.

What shal I seyn of hasdrubales wyf,

1400

That at cartage birafte hirself hir lyf?

For whan she saugh that romayns wan the toun,

She took hir children alle, and skipte adoun

Into the fyr, and chees rather to dye

Than any romayn dide hire vileynye.

1405

Hath nat lucresse yslayn hirself, allas!

At rome, whan that she oppressed was

Of tarquyn, for hire thoughte it was a shame

To lyven whan that she had lost hir name?

The sevene maydens of milesie also

1410

Han slayn hemself, for verrey drede and wo,

Rather than folk of gawle hem sholde oppresse.

Mo than a thousand stories, as I gesse,

Koude I now telle as touchynge this mateere.

Whan habradate was slayn, his wyf so deere

1415

Hirselven slow, and leet hir blood to glyde

In habradates woundes depe and wyde,

And seyde, my body, at the leeste way,

Ther shal no wight defoulen, if I may.

what sholde I mo ensamples heerof sayn,

1420

Sith that so manye han hemselven slayn

Wel rather than they wolde defouled be?

I wol conclude that it is bet for me

To sleen myself than been defouled thus.

I wol be trewe unto arveragus,

1425

Or rather sleen myself in som manere,

As dide demociones doghter deere

By cause that she wolde nat defouled be.

O cedasus, it is ful greet pitee

To reden how thy doghtren deyde, allas!

1430

That slowe hemself for swich a manere cas.

As greet a pitee was it, or wel moore,

The theban mayden that for nichanore

Hirselven slow, right for swich manere wo.

Another theban mayden dide right so;

1435

For oon of macidonye hadde hire oppressed,

She with hire deeth hir maydenhede redressed.

What shal I seye of nicerates wyf,

That for swich cas birafte hirself hir lyf?

How trewe eek was to alcebiades

1440

His love, that rather for to dyen chees

Than for to suffre his body unburyed be.

Lo, which a wyf was alceste, quod she.

What seith omer of good penalopee?

Al grece knoweth of hire chastitee

1445

Pardee, of laodomya is writen thus,

That whan at troie was slayn protheselaus,

Ne lenger wolde she lyve after his day.

The same of noble porcia telle I may;

Withoute brutus koude she nat lyve,

1450

To whom she hadde al hool hir herte yive.

The parfit wyfhod of arthemesie

Honured is thurgh al the barbarie.

O teuta, queene! thy wyfly chastitee

To alle wyves may a mirour bee.

1455

The same thyng I seye of bilyea,

Of rodogne, and eek valeria.

thus pleyned dorigen a day or tweye,

Purposynge evere that she wolde deye.

But nathelees, upon the thridde nyght,

1460

Hoom cam arveragus, this worthy knyght,

And asked hire why that she weep so soore;

And she gan wepen ever lenger the moore.

Allas, quod she, that evere was I born!

Thus have I seyd, quod she, thus have I sworn –

1465

And toold hym al as ye han herd bifore;

It nedeth nat reherce it yow namoore.

This housbonde, with glad chiere, in freendly wyse

Answerde and seyde as I shal yow devyse –

Is ther oght elles, dorigen, but this?

1470

nay, nay, quod she, God helpe me so as wys!

This is to muche, and it were goddes wille.

ye, wyf, quod he, lat slepen that is stille.

It may be wel, paraventure, yet to day.

Ye shul youre trouthe holden, by my fay!

1475

For God so wisly have mercy upon me,

I hadde wel levere ystiked for to be

For verray love which I to yow have,

But if ye sholde youre trouthe kepe and save.

Trouthe is the hyeste thyng that man may kepe –

1480

But with that word he brast anon to wepe,

And seyde, I yow forbede, up peyne of deeth,

That nevere, whil thee lasteth lyf ne breeth,

To no wight telle thou of this aventure, –

As I may best, I wol my wo endure

1485

Ne make no contenance of hevynesse,

That folk of yow may demen harm or gesse.

and forth he cleped a squier and a mayde –

Gooth forth anon with dorigen, he sayde,

And bryngeth hire to swich a place anon.

1490

They take hir leve, and on hir wey they gon

But they ne wiste why she thider wente.

He nolde no wight tellen his entente.

paraventure an heep of yow, ywis,

Wol holden hym a lewed man in this

1495

That he wol putte his wyf in jupartie.

Herkneth the tale er ye upon hire crie.

She may have bettre fortune than yow semeth;

And whan that ye han herd the tale, demeth.

this squier, which that highte aurelius,

1500

On dorigen that was so amorous,

Of aventure happed hire to meete

Amydde the toun, right in the quykkest strete,

As she was bown to goon the wey forth right

Toward the gardyn ther as she had hight.

1505

And he was to the gardyn-ward also –

For wel he spyed whan she wolde go

Out of hir hous to any maner place.

But thus they mette, of aventure or grace,

And he saleweth hire with glad entente,

1510

And asked of hire whiderward she wente;

And she answerde, half as she were mad,

Unto the gardyn, as myn housbonde bad,

My trouthe for to holde, allas! allas!

aurelius gan wondren on this cas,

1515

And in his herte hadde greet compassioun

Of hire and of hire lamentacioun,

And of arveragus, the worthy knyght,

That bad hire holden al that she had hight,

So looth hym was his wyf sholde breke hir trouthe

1520

And in his herte he caughte of this greet routhe,

Considerynge the beste on every syde,

That fro his lust yet were hym levere abyde

Than doon so heigh a cherlyssh wrecchednesse

Agayns franchise and all gentillesse;

1525

For which in fewe wordes seyde he thus –

madame, seyth to youre lord arveragus,

That sith I se his grete gentillesse

To yow, and eek I se wel youre distresse,

That him were levere han shame (and that were routhe)

1530

Than ye to me sholde breke thus youre trouthe,

I have wel levere evere to suffre wo

Than I departe the love bitwix yow two.

I yow relesse, madame, into youre hond

Quyt every serement and every bond

1535

That ye han maad to me as heerbiforn,

Sith thilke tyme which that ye were born.

My trouthe I plighte, I shal yow never repreve

Of no biheste, and heere I take my leve,

As of the treweste and the beste wyf

1540

That evere yet I knew in al my lyf.

But every wyf be war of hire biheeste!

Or dorigen remembreth, atte leeste.

Thus kan a squier doon a gentil dede

As wel as kan a knyght, withouten drede.

1545

she thonketh hym upon hir knees al bare,

And hoom unto hir housbonde is she fare,

And tolde hym al, as ye han herd me sayd;

And be ye siker, he was so weel apayd

That it were inpossible me to wryte.

1550

What sholde I lenger of this cas endyte?

arveragus and dorigen his wyf

In sovereyn blisse leden forth hir lyf.

Nevere eft ne was ther angre hem bitweene.

He cherisseth hire as though she were a queene,

1555

And she was to hym trewe for everemoore.

Of thise two folk ye gete of me namoore.

aurelius, that his cost hath al forlorn,

Curseth the tyme that evere he was born –

Allas, quod he, allas, that I bihighte

1560

Of pured gold a thousand pound of wighte

Unto this philosophre! how shal I do?

I se namoore but that I am fordo.

Myn heritage moot I nedes selle,

And been a beggere; heere may I nat dwelle,

1565

And shamen al my kynrede in this place,

But I of hym may gete bettre grace.

But nathelees, I wole of hym assaye,

At certeyn dayes, yeer by yeer, to paye,

And thanke hym of his grete curteisye.

1570

My trouthe wol I kepe, I wol nat lye.

with herte soor he gooth unto his cofre,

And broghte gold unto his philosophre,

The value of fyve hundred pound, I gesse,

And hym bisecheth, of his gentillesse,

1575

To graunte hym dayes of the remenaunt;

And seyde, maister, I dar wel make avaunt,

I failled nevere of my trouthe as yit,

For sikerly my dette shal be quyt

Towardes yow, howevere that I fare

1580

To goon a-begged in my kirtle bare.

But wolde ye vouche sauf, upon seuretee,

Two yeer or thre for to respiten me,

Thanne were I wel; for elles moot I selle

Myn heritage; ther is namoore to telle.

1585

this philosophre sobrely answerde,

And seyde thus, whan he thise wordes herde –

Have I nat holden covenant unto thee?

yes, certes, wel and trewely, quod he.

hastow nat had thy lady as thee liketh?

1590

no, no, quod he, and sorwefully he siketh.

what was the cause? tel me if thou kan.

aurelius his tale anon bigan,

And tolde hym al, as ye han herd biroore;

It nedeth nat to yow reherce it moore.

1595

he seide, arveragus, of gentillesse,

Hadde levere dye in sorwe and in distresse

Than that his wyf were of hir trouthe fals.

The sorwe of dorigen he tolde hym als;

How looth hire was to been a wikked wyf,

1600

And that she levere had lost that day hir lyf,

And that hir trouthe she swoor thurgh innocence,

She nevere erst hadde herd speke of apparence.

That made me han of hire so greet pitee;

And right as frely as he sente hire me,

1605

As frely sente I hire to hym ageyn,

This al and som; ther is namoore to seyn.

This philosophre answerde, leeve brother,

Everich of yow dide gentilly til oother.

Thou art a squier, and he is a knyght;

1610

But God forbede, for his blisful myght,

But if a clerk koude doon a gentil dede

As wel as any of yow, it is no drede!

sire, I releesse thee thy thousand pound,

As thou right now were cropen out of the ground,

1615

Ne nevere er now ne haddest knowen me.

For, sire, I wol nat taken a peny of thee

For al my craft, ne noght for my travaille.

Thou hast ypayed wel for my vitaille.

It is ynogh, and farewel, have good day!

1620

And took his hors, and forth he goth his way.

Lordynges, this question, thanne, wol I aske now,

Which was the mooste fre, as thenketh yow?

Now telleth me, er that ye ferther wende.

I kan namoore; my tale is at an ende.

Heere is ended the

Frankeleyns Tale.