The Canterbury Tales · The Miller’s Tale · The Tale (1/3)

The Tale

Whilom there was dwelling in Oxenford

A richë gnof,936 that guestës held to board,937

And of his craft he was a carpentér.

With him there was dwelling a poor scholér,

Had learned art, but all his fantasy

Was turned for to learn astrology.

He coudë938 a certain of conclusions

To deemë939 by interrogations,

If that men asked him in certain hours,

When that men should have drought or ellës show’rs:

Or if men asked him what shouldë fall

Of everything, I may not reckon all.

This clerk was called Hendy940 Nicholas;

Of dernë941 love he knew and of solace;

And therewith he was sly and full privy,

And like a maiden meekë for to see.

A chamber had he in that hostelry

Alone, withouten any company,

Full fetisly y-dight942 with herbës swoot,943

And he himself was sweet as is the root

Of liquorice, or any setewall.944

His Almagest,945 and bookës great and small,

His astrolabe,946 belonging to his art,

His augrim stonës,947 layed fair apart

On shelvës couched948 at his beddë’s head,

His press y-cover’d with a falding949 red.

And all above there lay a gay psalt’ry

On which he made at nightës melody,

So sweetëly, that all the chamber rang:

And Angelus ad virginem950 he sang.

And after that he sung the kingë’s note;

Full often blessed was his merry throat.

And thus this sweetë clerk his timë spent

After his friendës finding and his rent.951

This carpenter had wedded new a wife,

Which that he loved morë 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 bélike952 a cuckóld.

He knew not Cato,953 for his wit was rude,

That bade a man wed his similitude.

Men shouldë wedden after their estate,

For youth and eld954 are often at debate.

But since that he was fallen in the snare,

He must endure (as other folk) his care.

Fair was this youngë wife, and therewithal

As any weasel her body gent955 and small.

A seint956 she weared, barred all of silk,

A barm-cloth957 eke as white as morning milk

Upon her lendës,958 full of many a gore.959

White was her smock,960 and broider’d all before,

And eke behind, on her collar about

Of coal-black silk, within and eke without.

The tapës961 of her whitë volupere962

Were of the samë suit of her collére;

Her fillet broad of silk, and set full high:

And sickerly963 she had a likerous964 eye.

Full small y-pulled were her browës two,

And they were bent,965 and black as any sloe.

She was well more blissful on to see966

Than is the newë perjenetë967 tree;

And softer than the wool is of a wether.

And by her girdle hung a purse of leather,

Tassel’d with silk, and pearlëd with latoun.968

In all this world to seeken up and down

There is no man so wise, that coudë thenche969

So gay a popelot,970 or such a wench.

Full brighter was the shining of her hue,

Than in the Tower the noble971 forged new.

But of her song, it was as loud and yern,972

As any swallow chittering on a bern.973

Thereto974 she couldë skip, and make a game,975

As any kid or calf following his dame.

Her mouth was sweet as braket,976 or as methe,977

Or hoard of apples, laid in hay or heath.

Wincing978 she was as is a jolly colt,

Long as a mast, and upright as a bolt.

A brooch she bare upon her low collére,

As broad as is the boss of a bucklére.

Her shoon were laced on her leggës high;

She was a primerole,979 a piggesnie,980

For any lord t’ have ligging981 in his bed,

Or yet for any good yeoman to wed.

Now, sir, and eft982 sir, so befell the case,

That on a day this Hendy983 Nicholas

Fell with this youngë wife to rage and play,984

While that her husband was at Oseney,985

As clerkës be full subtle and full quaint.

And privily he caught her by the queint,

And said; “Y-wis,986 but if I have my will,

For dernë987 love of thee, leman,988 I spill.”989

And heldë her fast by the haunchë bones,

And saidë “Leman, love me well at once,

Or I will dien, all so God me save.”

And she sprang as a colt doth in the trave:990

And with her head she writhed fast away,

And said; “I will not kiss thee, by my fay.991

Why let be,” quoth she, “let be, Nicholas,

Or I will cry out harow and alas

Do away your handës, 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 but993 ye waitë well, and be privy,

I wot right well I am but dead,” quoth she.

“Ye mustë be full derne994 as in this case.”

“Nay, thereof care thee nought,” quoth Nicholas:

“A clerk had litherly beset his while,995

But if996 he could a carpenter beguile.”

And thus they were accorded and y-sworn

To wait a time, as I have said beforn.

When Nicholas had done thus every deal,997

And thwacked her about the lendës well,

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 Christë’s owen workës for to wirch,998

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 strutted999 as a fannë large and broad;

Full straight and even lay his jolly shode.1000

His rode1001 was red, his eyen grey as goose,

With Paulë’s windows carven1002 on his shoes.

In hosen red he went full fetisly.1003

Y-clad he was full small and properly,

All in a kirtle1004 of a light waget;1005

Full fair and thickë be the pointës set.

And thereupon he had a gay surplíce,

As white as is the blossom on the rise.1006

A merry child he was, so God 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 Oxenfordë tho,1007

And with his leggës castë to and fro;

And playen songës on a small ribible;1008

Thereto he sung sometimes a loud quinible.1009

And as well could he play on a gitérn.1010

In all the town was brewhouse nor tavérn,

That he not visited with his solas,1011

There as that any garnard tapstere1012 was.

But sooth to say he was somedeal squaimous1013

Of farting, and of speechë dangerous.

This Absolon, that jolly was and gay,

Went with a censer on the holy day,

Censing1014 the wivës of the parish fast;

And many a lovely look he on them cast,

And namëly1015 on this carpénter’s wife:

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.1016

This parish clerk, this jolly Absolon,

Hath in his heartë such a love-longing!

That of no wife took he none offering;

For courtesy he said he wouldë none.

The moon at night full clear and brightë shone,

And Absolon his gitern hath y-taken,

For paramours he thoughtë for to waken,

And forth he went, jolif1017 and amorous,

Till he came to the carpentérë’s house,

A little after the cock had y-crow,

And dressed him1018 under a shot1019 window,

That was upon the carpentérë’s wall.

He singeth in his voice gentle and small;

“Now, dear lady, if thy will be,

I pray that ye will rue1020 on me;”

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 bower1021 wall?”

And she answer’d her husband therewithal;

“Yes, God wot, John, I hear him every deal.”

This passeth forth; what will ye bet1022 than well?

From day to day this jolly Absolon

So wooeth her, that him is woebegone.

He waketh all the night, and all the day,

To comb his lockës broad, and make him gay.

He wooeth her by means and by brocage,1023

And swore he wouldë be her owen page.

He singeth brokking1024 as a nightingale.

He sent her piment,1025 mead, and spiced ale,

And wafers1026 piping hot out of the glede:1027

And, for she was of town, he proffer’d meed.1028

For some folk will be wonnen for richéss,

And some for strokes, and some with gentiless.

Sometimes, to show his lightness and mast’ry,

He playeth Herod1029 on a scaffold high.

But what availeth him as in this case?

So loveth she the Hendy Nicholas,

That Absolon may blow the buckë’s horn:1030

He had for all his labour but a scorn.

And thus she maketh Absolon her ape,

And all his earnest turneth to a jape.1031

Full sooth is this provérb, it is no lie;

Men say right thus alway; the nighë sly

Maketh oft time the far lief to be loth.1032

For though that Absolon be wood1033 or wroth

Because that he far was from her sight,

This nigh Nicholas stood still in his light.

Now bear thee well, thou Hendy Nicholas,

For Absolon may wail and sing “Alas!”

And so befell, that on a Saturday

This carpenter was gone to Oseney,

And Hendy Nicholas and Alisón

Accorded were to this conclusión,

That Nicholas shall shapë him a wile1034

The silly jealous husband to beguile;

And if so were the gamë went aright,

She shouldë sleepen in his arms all night;

For this was her desire and his also.

And right anon, withoutë wordës mo’,

This Nicholas no longer would he tarry,

But doth full soft unto his chamber carry

Both meat and drinkë for a day or tway.

And to her husband bade her for to say,

If that he asked after Nicholas,

She shouldë say, “She wist1035 not where he was;

Of all the day she saw him not with eye;

She trowed1036 he was in some maladý,

For no cry that her maiden could him call

He would answer, for nought that might befall.”

Thus passed forth all thilkë1037 Saturday,

That Nicholas still in his chamber lay,

And ate, and slept, and diddë what him list

Till Sunday, that the sunnë went to rest.1038

This silly carpenter had great marvail1039

Of Nicholas, or what thing might him ail,

And said; “I am adrad,1040 by Saint Thomas!

It standeth not aright with Nicholas:

God shieldë1041 that he died suddenly.

This world is now full tickle1042 sickerly.1043

I saw to-day a corpse y-borne to chirch,

That now on Monday last I saw him wirch.1044

“Go up,” quod he unto his knave,1045 “anon;

Clepe1046 at his door, or knockë with a stone:

Look how it is, and tell me boldëly.”

This knavë went him up full sturdily,

And, at the chamber door while that he stood,

He cried and knocked as that he were wood:1047

“What how? what do ye, Master Nicholay?

How may ye sleepen all the longë day?”

But all for nought, he heardë not a word.

An hole he found full low upon the board,

There as1048 the cat was wont in for to creep,

And at that hole he looked in full deep,

And at the last he had of him a sight.

This Nicholas sat ever gaping upright,

As he had kyked1049 on the newë moon.

Adown he went, and told his master soon,

In what array he saw this ilkë1050 man.

This carpenter to blissen him1051 began,

And said: “Now help us, Saintë Frideswide.1052

A man wot1053 little what shall him betide.

This man is fall’n with his astronomy

Into some woodness1054 or some agony.

I thought aye well how that it shouldë be.

Men should know nought of Goddë’s privity.1055

Yea, blessed be alway a lewëd1056 man,

That nought but only his believë can.1057

So far’d another clerk with astrónomý:

He walked in the fieldës for to pry

Upon1058 the starrës, what there should befall,

Till he was in a marlë pit y-fall.1059

He saw not that. But yet, by Saint Thomas!

Me rueth sore of1060 Hendy Nicholas:

He shall be rated of his studying,1061

If that I may, by Jesus, heaven’s king!

Get me a staff, that I may underspore1062

While that thou, Robin, heavest off the door:

He shall out of his studying, as I guess.”

And to the chamber door he gan him dress.1063

His knavë was a strong carl for the nonce,

And by the hasp1064 he heav’d it off at once;

Into the floor the door fell down anon.

This Nicholas sat aye as still as stone,

And ever he gap’d upward into the air.

The carpenter ween’d1065 he were in despair,

And hent1066 him by the shoulders mightily,

And shook him hard, and cried spitously;1067

“What, Nicholas? what how, man? look adown:

Awake, and think on Christë’s passioún.

I crouchë thee1068 from elvës, and from wights.”1069

Therewith the night-spell said he anon rights,1070

On the four halvës1071 of the house about,

And on the threshold of the door without.

“Lord Jesus Christ, and Saintë Benedight,

Blessë this house from every wicked wight,

From the night mare, the white Pater-noster;

Where wonnest1072 thou now, Saintë Peter’s sister?”

And at the last this Hendy Nicholas

Gan for to sigh full sore, and said; “Alas!

Shall all time world be lost eftsoonës1073 now?”

This carpenter answér’d; “What sayest thou?

What? think on God, as we do, men that swink.”1074

This Nicholas answer’d; “Fetch me a drink;

And after will I speak in privity

Of certain thing that toucheth thee and me:

I will tell it no other man certain.”