The Canterbury Tales · The Clerk’s Tale · The Tale 2435 · Pars Sexta

Pars Sexta

From Bologn’ is the earl of Panic’ come,

Of which the fame up sprang to more and less;

And to the people’s earës all and some

Was know’n eke, that a newë marchioness

He with him brought, in such pomp and richéss

That never was there seen with mannë’s eye

So noble array in all West Lombardy.

The marquis, which that shope2661 and knew all this,

Ere that the earl was come, sent his messáge2662

For thilkë poorë sely2663 Griseldis;

And she, with humble heart and glad viságe,

Nor with no swelling thought in her coráge,2664

Came at his hest,2665 and on her knees her set,

And rev’rently and wisely she him gret.2666

“Griseld’,” quoth he, “my will is utterly,

This maiden, that shall wedded be to me,

Received be to-morrow as royally

As it possible is in my house to be;

And eke that every wight in his degree

Have his estate2667 in sitting and servíce,

And in high pleasance, as I can devise.

“I have no women sufficient, certáin,

The chambers to array in ordinance

After my lust;2668 and therefore would I fain

That thine were all such manner governance:

Thou knowest eke of old all my pleasánce;

Though thine array be bad, and ill besey,2669

Do thou thy dévoir at the leastë way.”2670

“Not only, Lord, that I am glad,” quoth she,

“To do your lust, but I desire also

You for to serve and please in my degree,

Withoutë fainting, and shall evermo’:

Nor ever for no weal, nor for no woe,

Ne shall the ghost2671 within mine heartë stent2672

To love you best with all my true intent.”

And with that word she gan the house to dight,2673

And tables for to set, and beds to make,

And pained her2674 to do all that she might,

Praying the chamberéres for Goddë’s sake

To hasten them, and fastë sweep and shake,

And she the most servíceable of all

Hath ev’ry chamber arrayed, and his hall.

Abouten undern2675 gan the earl alight,

That with him brought these noble children tway;

For which the people ran to see the sight

Of their array, so richëly besey;2676

And then at erst2677 amongës them they say,

That Walter was no fool, though that him lest2678

To change his wife; for it was for the best.

For she is fairer, as they deemen2679 all,

Than is Griseld’, and more tender of age,

And fairer fruit between them shouldë fall,

And morë pleasant, for her high lineage:

Her brother eke so fair was of viságe,

That them to see the people hath caught pleasánce,

Commending now the marquis’ governance.

“O stormy people, unsad2680 and ev’r untrue,

And undiscreet, and changing as a vane,

Delighting ev’r in rumour that is new,

For like the moon so waxë ye and wane:

Aye full of clapping, dear enough a jane,2681

Your doom2682 is false, your constance evil preveth,2683

A full great fool is he that you believeth.”

Thus saidë the sad2684 folk in that citý,

When that the people gazed up and down;

For they were glad, right for the novelty,

To have a newë lady of their town.

No more of this now make I mentioún,

But to Griseld’ again I will me dress,

And tell her constancy and business.

Full busy was Griseld’ in ev’ry thing

That to the feastë was appertinent;

Right nought was she abash’d2685 of her clothing,

Though it were rude, and somedeal eke to-rent;2686

But with glad cheer unto the gate she went

With other folk, to greet the marchioness,

And after that did forth her business.

With so glad cheer his guestës she receiv’d

And so conningly2687 each in his degree,

That no defaultë no man apperceiv’d,

But aye they wonder’d what she mightë be

That in so poor array was for to see,

And coudë2688 such honoúr and reverence;

And worthily they praisë her prudence.

In all this meanë whilë she not stent2689

This maid, and eke her brother, to commend

With all her heart in full benign intent,

So well, that no man could her praise amend:

But at the last, when that these lordës wend2690

To sittë down to meat, he gan to call

Griseld’, as she was busy in the hall.

“Griseld’,” quoth he, as it were in his play,

“How liketh thee my wife, and her beauty?”

“Right well, my Lord,” quoth she, “for, in good fay,2691

A fairer saw I never none than she:

I pray to God give you prosperity;

And so I hope, that he will to you send

Pleasance enough unto your livës’ end.

“One thing beseech I you, and warn also,

That ye not prickë with no tórmentíng

This tender maiden, as ye have done mo:2692

For she is foster’d in her nourishing

More tenderly, and, to my supposing,

She mightë not adversity endure

As could a poorë foster’d creatúre.”

And when this Walter saw her patience,

Her gladdë cheer, and no malíce at all,

And2693 he so often had her done offence,

And she aye sad2694 and constant as a wall,

Continuing ev’r her innocence o’er all,

The sturdy marquis gan his heartë dress2695

To rue upon her wifely steadfastness.

“This is enough, Griselda mine,” quoth he,

“Be now no more aghast, nor evil paid,2696

I have thy faith and thy benignity

As well as ever woman was, assay’d,

In great estate and poorëly array’d:

Now know I, dearë wife, thy steadfastness;”

And her in arms he took, and gan to kiss.

And she for wonder took of it no keep;2697

She heardë not what thing he to her said:

She far’d as she had start out of a sleep,

Till she out of her mazedness abraid.2698

“Griseld’,” quoth he, “by God that for us died,

Thou art my wifë, none other I have,

Nor ever had, as God my soulë save.

“This is thy daughter, which thou hast suppos’d

To be my wife; that other faithfully

Shall be mine heir, as I have aye dispos’d;

Thou bare them of thy body truëly:

At Bologna kept I them privily:

Take them again, for now may’st thou not say

That thou hast lorn2699 none of thy children tway.

“And folk, that otherwise have said of me,

I warn them well, that I have done this deed

For no malíce, nor for no cruelty,

But to assay in thee thy womanhead:

And not to slay my children (God forbid),

But for to keep them privily and still,

Till I thy purpose knew, and all thy will.”

When she this heard, in swoon adown she falleth

For piteous joy; and after her swooning,

She both her youngë children to her calleth,

And in her armës piteously weeping

Embraced them, and tenderly kissing,

Full like a mother, with her saltë tears

She bathed both their visage and their hairs.

O, what a piteous thing it was to see

Her swooning, and her humble voice to hear!

“Grand mercy, Lord, God thank it you,” quoth she,

That ye have saved me my children dear;

Now reck2700 I never to be dead right here;

Since I stand in your love, and in your grace,

No force of2701 death, nor when my spirit pace.2702

“O tender, O dear, O young children mine,

Your woeful mother weened steadfastly2703

That cruel houndës, or some foul vermíne,

Had eaten you; but God of his mercy,

And your benignë father tenderly

Have done you keep:”2704 and in that samë stound,2705

All suddenly she swapt2706 down to the ground.

And in her swoon so sadly2707 holdeth she

Her children two, when she gan them embrace,

That with great sleight2708 and great difficulty

The children from her arm they can arace,2709

O! many a tear on many a piteous face

Down ran of them that stoodë her beside,

Unneth2710 aboutë her might they abide.

Walter her gladdeth, and her sorrow slaketh:2711

She riseth up abashed2712 from her trance,

And every wight her joy and feastë maketh,

Till she hath caught again her countenance.

Walter her doth so faithfully pleasánce,

That it was dainty for to see the cheer

Betwixt them two, since they be met in fere.2713

The ladies, when that they their timë sey,2714

Have taken her, and into chamber gone,

And stripped her out of her rude array,

And in a cloth of gold that brightly shone,

And with a crown of many a richë stone

Upon her head, they into hall her brought:

And there she was honoúred as her ought.

Thus had this piteous day a blissful end;

For every man and woman did his might

This day in mirth and revel to dispend,

Till on the welkin2715 shone the starrës bright:

For more solémn in every mannë’s sight

This feastë was, and greater of costage,2716

Than was the revel of her marriáge.

Full many a year in high prosperity

Lived these two in concord and in rest;

And richëly his daughter married he

Unto a lord, one of the worthiest

Of all Itále; and then in peace and rest

His wifë’s father in his court he kept,

Till that the soul out of his body crept.

His son succeeded in his heritage,

In rest and peace, after his father’s day:

And fortunate was eke in marriáge,

All2717 he put not his wife in great assay:

This world is not so strong, it is no nay,2718

As it hath been in oldë timës yore;

And hearken what this author saith, therefore;

This story is said,2719 not for that wivës should

Follow Griselda in humility,

For it were importáble2720 though they would;

But for that every wight in his degree

Shouldë be constant in adversity,

As was Griselda; therefore Petrarch writeth

This story, which with high style he inditeth.

For, since a woman was so patient

Unto a mortal man, well more we ought

Receiven all in gree2721 that God us sent.

For great skill is he proved that he wrought:2722

But he tempteth no man that he hath bought,

As saith Saint James, if ye his ’pistle read;

He proveth folk all day, it is no dread.2723

And suffereth us, for our exercise,

With sharpë scourges of adversity

Full often to be beat in sundry wise;

Not for to know our will, for certes he,

Ere we were born, knew all our fraïlty;

And for our best is all his governance;

Let us then live in virtuous sufferance.

But one word, lordings, hearken, ere I go:

It were full hard to findë now-a-days

In all a town Griseldas three or two:

For, if that they were put to such assays,

The gold of them hath now so bad allays2724

With brass, that though the coin be fair at eye,2725

It wouldë rather break in two than ply.2726

For which here, for the Wifë’s love of Bath⁠—

Whose life and all her sex may God maintain

In high mast’rý, and ellës were it scath⁠—2727

I will, with lusty heartë fresh and green,

Say you a song to gladden you, I ween:

And let us stint of earnestful mattére.

Hearken my song, that saith in this mannére.