Canterbury Tales and Other Poems, Geoffrey Chaucer [good fiction books to read txt] 📗

me that I coulde not withdraw My chamber of Venus from a good fellaw.

[Yet have I Marte’s mark upon my face, And also in another privy place.

For God so wisly* be my salvation, *certainly I loved never by discretion,

But ever follow’d mine own appetite,

All* were he short, or long, or black, or white, whether I took no keep, so that he liked me, *heed How poor he was, neither of what degree.] <25>

What should I say? but that at the month’s end This jolly clerk Jenkin, that was so hend, courteous Had wedded me with great solemnity,

And to him gave I all the land and fee That ever was me given therebefore:

But afterward repented me full sore.

He woulde suffer nothing of my list. pleasure By God, he smote me ones with his fist, For that I rent out of his book a leaf, That of the stroke mine eare wax’d all deaf.

Stubborn I was, as is a lioness,

And of my tongue a very jangleress, prater And walk I would, as I had done beforn, From house to house, although he had it sworn: had sworn to For which he oftentimes woulde preach prevent it And me of olde Roman gestes* teach *stories How that Sulpitius Gallus left his wife And her forsook for term of all his

For nought but open-headed* he her say* bare-headed **saw Looking out at his door upon a day.

Another Roman <27> told he me by name, That, for his wife was at a summer game Without his knowing, he forsook her eke.

And then would he upon his Bible seek

That ilke* proverb of Ecclesiast, *same Where he commandeth, and forbiddeth fast, Man shall not suffer his wife go roll about.

Then would he say right thus withoute doubt: “Whoso that buildeth his house all of sallows, willows And pricketh his blind horse over the fallows, And suff’reth his wife to *go seeke hallows, make pilgrimages*

Is worthy to be hanged on the gallows.”

But all for nought; I *sette not a haw cared nothing for*

Of his proverbs, nor of his olde saw;

Nor would I not of him corrected be.

I hate them that my vices telle me,

And so do more of us (God wot) than I.

This made him wood* with me all utterly; furious I woulde not forbear him in no case. *endure Now will I say you sooth, by Saint Thomas, Why that I rent out of his book a leaf, For which he smote me, so that I was deaf.

He had a book, that gladly night and day For his disport he would it read alway; He call’d it Valerie,<28> and Theophrast, And with that book he laugh’d alway full fast.

And eke there was a clerk sometime at Rome, A cardinal, that highte Saint Jerome,

That made a book against Jovinian,

Which book was there; and eke Tertullian, Chrysippus, Trotula, and Heloise,

That was an abbess not far from Paris; And eke the Parables* of Solomon, Proverbs Ovide’s Art, <29> and bourdes many one; *jests And alle these were bound in one volume.

And every night and day was his custume (When he had leisure and vacation

From other worldly occupation)

To readen in this book of wicked wives.

He knew of them more legends and more lives Than be of goodde wives in the Bible.

For, trust me well, it is an impossible That any clerk will speake good of wives, (But if it be of holy saintes’ lives) *unless Nor of none other woman never the mo’.

Who painted the lion, tell it me, who?

By God, if women haddde written stories, As clerkes have within their oratories, They would have writ of men more wickedness Than all the mark of Adam <30> may redress The children of Mercury and of Venus,<31>

Be in their working full contrarious.

Mercury loveth wisdom and science,

And Venus loveth riot and dispence. extravagance And for their diverse disposition,

Each falls in other’s exaltation.

As thus, God wot, Mercury is desolate

In Pisces, where Venus is exaltate,

And Venus falls where Mercury is raised. <32>

Therefore no woman by no clerk is praised.

The clerk, when he is old, and may not do Of Venus’ works not worth his olde shoe, Then sits he down, and writes in his dotage, That women cannot keep their marriage.

But now to purpose, why I tolde thee

That I was beaten for a book, pardie.

 

Upon a night Jenkin, that was our sire, goodman Read on his book, as he sat by the fire, Of Eva first, that for her wickedness

Was all mankind brought into wretchedness, For which that Jesus Christ himself was slain, That bought us with his hearte-blood again.

Lo here express of women may ye find

That woman was the loss of all mankind.

Then read he me how Samson lost his hairs Sleeping, his leman cut them with her shears, Through whiche treason lost he both his eyen.

Then read he me, if that I shall not lien, Of Hercules, and of his Dejanire,

That caused him to set himself on fire.

Nothing forgot he of the care and woe

That Socrates had with his wives two;

How Xantippe cast piss upon his head.

This silly man sat still, as he were dead, He wip’d his head, and no more durst he sayn, But, “Ere the thunder stint* there cometh rain.” ceases Of Phasiphae, that was queen of Crete, For shrewedness he thought the tale sweet. *wickedness Fy, speak no more, it is a grisly thing, Of her horrible lust and her liking.

Of Clytemnestra, for her lechery

That falsely made her husband for to die, He read it with full good devotion.

He told me eke, for what occasion

Amphiorax at Thebes lost his life:

My husband had a legend of his wife

Eryphile, that for an ouche* of gold *clasp, collar Had privily unto the Greekes told,

Where that her husband hid him in a place, For which he had at Thebes sorry grace.

Of Luna told he me, and of Lucie;

They bothe made their husbands for to die, That one for love, that other was for hate.

Luna her husband on an ev’ning late

Empoison’d had, for that she was his foe: Lucia liquorish lov’d her husband so,

That, for he should always upon her think, She gave him such a manner* love-drink, sort of That he was dead before it were the morrow: And thus algates husbands hadde sorrow. *always Then told he me how one Latumeus

Complained to his fellow Arius

That in his garden growed such a tree, On which he said how that his wives three Hanged themselves for heart dispiteous.

“O leve* brother,” quoth this Arius, dear “Give me a plant of thilke blessed tree, *that And in my garden planted shall it be.”

Of later date of wives hath he read,

That some have slain their husbands in their bed, And let their *lechour dight them* all the night, lover ride them

While that the corpse lay on the floor upright: And some have driven nails into their brain, While that they slept, and thus they have them slain: Some have them given poison in their drink: He spake more harm than hearte may bethink.

And therewithal he knew of more proverbs, Than in this world there groweth grass or herbs.

“Better (quoth he) thine habitation

Be with a lion, or a foul dragon,

Than with a woman using for to chide.

Better (quoth he) high in the roof abide, Than with an angry woman in the house, They be so wicked and contrarious:

They hate that their husbands loven aye.”

He said, “A woman cast her shame away

When she cast off her smock;” and farthermo’, “A fair woman, but* she be chaste also, *except Is like a gold ring in a sowe’s nose.

Who coulde ween,* or who coulde suppose *think The woe that in mine heart was, and the pine? pain And when I saw that he would never fine finish To readen on this cursed book all night, All suddenly three leaves have I plight plucked Out of his book, right as he read, and eke I with my fist so took him on the cheek, That in our fire he backward fell adown.

And he up start, as doth a wood* lion, *furious And with his fist he smote me on the head, That on the floor I lay as I were dead.

And when he saw how still that there I lay, He was aghast, and would have fled away, Till at the last out of my swoon I braid, woke “Oh, hast thou slain me, thou false thief?” I said “And for my land thus hast thou murder’d me?

Ere I be dead, yet will I kisse thee.”

And near he came, and kneeled fair adown, And saide”, “Deare sister Alisoun,

As help me God, I shall thee never smite: That I have done it is thyself to wite, blame Forgive it me, and that I thee beseek.” beseech And yet eftsoons* I hit him on the cheek, *immediately; again And saidde, “Thief, thus much am I awreak. avenged Now will I die, I may no longer speak.”

 

But at the last, with muche care and woe We fell accorded* by ourselves two: *agreed He gave me all the bridle in mine hand To have the governance of house and land, And of his tongue, and of his hand also.

I made him burn his book anon right tho. then And when that I had gotten unto me

By mast’ry all the sovereignety,

And that he said, “Mine owen true wife, Do *as thee list,* the term of all thy life, as pleases thee

Keep thine honour, and eke keep mine estate; After that day we never had debate.

God help me so, I was to him as kind

As any wife from Denmark unto Ind,

And also true, and so was he to me:

I pray to God that sits in majesty

So bless his soule, for his mercy dear.

Now will I say my tale, if ye will hear. —

 

The Friar laugh’d when he had heard all this: “Now, Dame,” quoth he, “so have I joy and bliss, This is a long preamble of a tale.”

And when the Sompnour heard the Friar gale, speak “Lo,” quoth this Sompnour, “Godde’s armes two, A friar will intermete* him evermo’: *interpose <33>

Lo, goode men, a fly and eke a frere

Will fall in ev’ry dish and eke mattere.

What speak’st thou of perambulation? preamble What? amble or trot; or peace, or go sit down: Thou lettest* our disport in this mattere.” *hinderesst “Yea, wilt thou so, Sir Sompnour?” quoth the Frere; “Now by my faith I shall, ere that I go, Tell of a Sompnour such a tale or two, That all the folk shall laughen in this place.”

“Now do, else, Friar, I beshrew* thy face,” curse Quoth this Sompnour; “and I beshrewe me, But if I telle tales two or three *unless Of friars, ere I come to Sittingbourne, That I shall make thine hearte for to mourn: For well I wot thy patience is gone.”

Our Hoste cried, “Peace, and that anon;”

And saide, “Let the woman tell her tale.

Ye fare* as folk that drunken be of ale. *behave Do, Dame, tell forth your tale, and that is best.”

“All ready, sir,” quoth she, “right as you lest, please If I have licence of this worthy Frere.”

“Yes, Dame,” quoth he, “tell forth, and I will hear.”

 

Notes to the Prologue to the Wife of Bath’s