The Canterbury Tales · The Franklin’s Tale · The Tale (2/3)

Then came her other friends many a one,

And in the alleys roamed up and down,

And nothing wist of this conclusión,

But suddenly began to revel new,

Till that the brightë sun had lost his hue,

For th’ horizón had reft the sun his light

(This is as much to say as it was night);

And home they go in mirth and in solace;

Save only wretch’d Aurelius, alas!

He to his house is gone with sorrowful heart.

He said, he may not from his death astart.3283

Him seemed, that he felt his heartë cold.

Up to the heav’n his handës gan he hold,

And on his kneës bare he set him down.

And in his raving said his orisoún.3284

For very woe out of his wit he braid;3285

He wist not what he spake, but thus he said;

With piteous heart his plaint hath he begun

Unto the gods, and first unto the Sun.

He said; “Apollo God and governoúr

Of every plantë, herbë, tree, and flow’r,

That giv’st, after thy declinatión,

To each of them his time and his seasón,

As thine herberow3286 changeth low and high;

Lord Phoebus! cast thy merciable3287 eye

On wretch’d Aurelius, which that am but lorn.3288

Lo, lord, my lady hath my death y-sworn,

Withoutë guilt, but3289 thy benignity

Upon my deadly heart have some pitý.

For well I wot, Lord Phoebus, if you lest,3290

Ye may me helpë, save my lady, best.

Now vouchësafe, that I may you devise3291

How that I may be holp,3292 and in what wise.

Your blissful sister, Lucina the sheen,3293

That of the sea is chief goddéss and queen⁠—

Though Neptunus have deity in the sea,

Yet emperess abovë him is she;⁠—

Ye know well, lord, that, right as her desire

Is to be quick’d3294 and lighted of your fire,

For which she followeth you full busily,

Right so the sea desireth naturally

To follow her, as she that is goddéss

Both in the sea and rivers more and less.

Wherefore, Lord Phoebus, this is my request,

Do this mirácle, or do3295 mine heartë brest;3296

That now, next at this oppositión,

Which in the sign shall be of the Lión,

As prayë her so great a flood to bring,

That five fathóm at least it overspring

The highest rock in Armoric’ Bretágne,

And let this flood endurë yearës twain:

Then certes to my lady may I say,

“Holdë your hest,3297 the rockës be away.”

Lord Phoebus, this mirácle do for me,

Pray her she go no faster course than ye;

I say this, “pray your sister that she go

No faster course than ye these yearës two:

Then shall she be even at full alway,

And spring-flood lastë bothë night and day.

And but she3298 vouchësafe in such mannére

To grantë me my sov’reign lady dear,

Pray her to sink every rock adown

Into her owen darkë regioún

Under the ground, where Pluto dwelleth in

Or nevermore shall I my lady win.

Thy temple in Delphos will I barefoot seek.

Lord Phoebus! see the tearës on my cheek

And on my pain have some compassioún.”

And with that word in sorrow he fell down,

And longë time he lay forth in a trance.

His brother, which that knew of his penánce,3299

Up caught him, and to bed he hath him brought,

Despaired in this torment and this thought

Let I this woeful creatúrë lie;

Choose he for me whe’er3300 he will live or die.

Arviragus with health and great honoúr

(As he that was of chivalry the flow’r)

Is comë home, and other worthy men.

Oh, blissful art thou now, thou Dorigen!

Thou hast thy lusty husband in thine arms,

The freshë knight, the worthy man of arms,

That loveth thee as his own heartë’s life:

Nothing list him to be imaginatif3301

If any wight had spoke, while he was out,

To her of love; he had of that no doubt;3302

He not intended3303 to no such mattére,

But danced, jousted, and made merry cheer.

And thus in joy and bliss I let them dwell,

And of the sick Aurelius will I tell.

In languor and in torment furious

Two year and more lay wretch’d Aurelius,

Ere any foot on earth he mightë gon;

Nor comfort in this timë had he none,

Save of his brother, which that was a clerk.3304

He knew of all this woe and all this work;

For to none other creatúre certáin

Of this matter he durst no wordë sayn;

Under his breast he bare it more secré

Than e’er did Pamphilus for Galatee.3305

His breast was whole withoutë for to seen,

But in his heart aye was the arrow keen,

And well ye know that of a sursanure3306

In surgery is perilous the cure,

But3307 men might touch the arrow or come thereby.

His brother wept and wailed privily,

Till at the last him fell in rémembránce,

That while he was at Orleans3308 in France⁠—

As youngë clerkës, that be likerous3309

To readen artës that be curious,

Seeken in every halk and every hern3310

Particular sciénces for to learn⁠—

He him remember’d, that upon a day

At Orleans in study a book he say3311

Of magic natural, which his felláw,

That was that time a bachelor of law,

All3312 were he there to learn another craft,

Had privily upon his desk y-laft;

Which book spake much of operatións

Touching the eight and-twenty mansións

That longë to the Moon, and such follý

As in our dayës is not worth a fly;

For holy church’s faith, in our believe,3313

Us suff’reth none illusión to grieve.

And when this book was in his rémembránce,

Anon for joy his heart began to dance,

And to himself he saidë privily;

“My brother shall be warish’d3314 hastily:

For I am sicker3315 that there be sciénces,

By which men makë divers apparences,

Such as these subtle tregetourës3316 play.

For oft at feastës have I well heard say,

That tregetours, within a hallë large,

Have made come in a water and a barge,

And in the hallë rowen up and down.

Sometimes hath seemed come a grim lioún,

And sometimes flowers spring as in a mead;

Sometimes a vine, and grapës white and red;

Sometimes a castle all of lime and stone;

And, when them liked, voided3317 it anon:

Thus seemed it to every mannë’s sight.

Now then conclude I thus; if that I might

At Orleans some oldë fellow find,

That hath these Moonë’s mansións in mind,

Or other magic natural above,

He should well make my brother have his love.

For with an áppearánce a clerk3318 may make,

To mannë’s sight, that all the rockës blake

Of Brétagne werë voided3319 every one,

And shippës by the brinkë come and gon,

And in such form endure a day or two;

Then were my brother warish’d3320 of his woe,

Then must she needës holdë her behest,3321

Or ellës he shall shame her at the least.”

Why should I make a longer tale of this?

Unto his brother’s bed he comen is,

And such comfórt he gave him, for to gon

To Orleans, that he upstart anon,

And on his way forth-ward then is he fare,3322

In hope for to be lissed3323 of his care.

When they were come almost to that citý,

But if it were3324 a two furlong or three,

A young clerk roaming by himself they met,

Which that in Latin thriftily3325 them gret.3326

And after that he said a wondrous thing;

“I know,” quoth he, “the cause of your comíng;”

And ere they farther any footë went,

He told them all that was in their intent.

The Breton clerk him asked of felláws

The which he haddë known in oldë daws,3327

And he answér’d him that they deadë were,

For which he wept full often many a tear.

Down off his horse Aurelius light anon,

And forth with this magician is be gone

Home to his house, and made him well at ease;

Them lacked no vitáil that might them please.

So well-array’d a house as there was one,

Aurelius in his life saw never none.

He shewed him, ere they went to suppére,

Forestës, parkës, full of wildë deer.

There saw he hartës with their hornës high,

The greatest that were ever seen with eye.

He saw of them an hundred slain with hounds,

And some with arrows bleed of bitter wounds.

He saw, when voided3328 were the wildë deer,

These falconers upon a fair rivére,

That with their hawkës have the heron slain.

Then saw he knightës jousting in a plain.

And after this he did him such pleasánce,

That he him shew’d his lady on a dance,

In which himselfë danced, as him thought.

And when this master, that this magic wrought,

Saw it was time, he clapp’d his handës two,

And farewell, all the revel is y-go.3329

And yet remov’d they never out of the house,

While they saw all the sightës marvelloús;

But in his study, where his bookës be,

They sattë still, and no wight but they three.

To him this master called his squiér,

And said him thus, “May we go to suppér?

Almost an hour it is, I undertake,

Since I you bade our supper for to make,

When that these worthy men wentë with me

Into my study, where my bookës be.”

“Sir,” quoth this squiër, “when it liketh you.

It is all ready, though ye will right now.”

“Go we then sup,” quoth he, “as for the best;

These amorous folk some time must have rest.”

At after supper fell they in treatý

What summë should this master’s guerdon be,

To remove all the rockës of Bretágne,

And eke from Gironde3330 to the mouth of Seine.

He made it strange,3331 and swore, so God him save,

Less than a thousand pound he would not have,

Nor gladly for that sum he would not gon.3332

Aurelius with blissful heart anon

Answered thus; “Fie on a thousand pound!

This widë world, which that men say is round,

I would it give, if I were lord of it.

This bargain is full-driv’n, for we be knit;3333

Ye shall be payed truly by my troth.

But lookë, for no negligence or sloth,

Ye tarry us here no longer than to-morrow.”

“Nay,” quoth the clerk, “have here my faith to borrow.”3334

To bed is gone Aurelius when him lest,

And well-nigh all that night he had his rest,

What for his labour, and his hope of bliss,

His woeful heart of penance had a liss.3335

Upon the morrow, when that it was day,

Unto Bretágne they took the rightë way,

Aurelius and this magicián beside,

And be descended where they would abide:

And this was, as the bookës me remember,

The coldë frosty season of December.

Phoebus wax’d old, and huëd like latoun,3336

That in his hotë declinatioún

Shone as the burned gold, with streamës3337 bright;

But now in Capricorn adown he light,

Where as he shone full pale, I dare well sayn.

The bitter frostës, with the sleet and rain,

Destroyed have the green in every yard.3338

Janus sits by the fire with double beard,

And drinketh of his bugle horn the wine:

Before him stands the brawn of tusked swine,

And “nowel”3339 crieth every lusty man.

Aurelius, in all that ev’r he can,

Did to his master cheer and reverence,

And prayed him to do his diligence

To bringë him out of his painë’s smart,

Or with a sword that he would slit his heart.

This subtle clerk such ruth3340 had on this man,

That night and day he sped him, that he can,

To wait a time of his conclusión;

This is to say, to make illusión,

By such an áppearánce of jugglery

(I know no termës of astrology),

That she and every wight should ween and say,

That of Bretágne the rockës were away,

Or else they werë sunken under ground.

So at the last he hath a timë found

To make his japës3341 and his wretchedness

Of such a superstitious cursedness.3342

His tables Toletanës3343 forth he brought,

Full well corrected, that there lacked nought,

Neither his collect, nor his expanse years,

Neither his rootës, nor his other gears,

As be his centres, and his arguments,

And his proportional conveniénts

For his equatións in everything.

And by his eightë spheres in his workíng,

He knew full well how far Alnath3344 was shove

From the head of that fix’d Aries above,

That in the ninthë sphere consider’d is.

Full subtilly he calcul’d all this.

When he had found his firstë mansión,

He knew the remnant by proportión;

And knew the rising of his moonë well,

And in whose face, and term, and every deal;

And knew full well the moonë’s mansión

Accordant to his operatión;

And knew also his other observánces,

For such illusións and such meschances,3345

As heathen folk used in thilkë days.

For which no longer made he delays;

But through his magic, for a day or tway,3346

It seemed all the rockës were away.

Aurelius, which yet despaired is

Whe’er3347 he shall have his love, or fare amiss,

Awaited night and day on this mirácle:

And when he knew that there was none obstácle,

That voided3348 were these rockës every one,

Down at his master’s feet he fell anon,

And said; “I, woeful wretch’d Aurelius,

Thank you, my Lord, and lady mine Venús,

That me have holpen from my carës cold.”

And to the temple his way forth hath he hold’,

Where as he knew he should his lady see.

And when he saw his time, anon right he

With dreadful3349 heart and with full humble cheer3350

Saluteth hath his sovereign lady dear.

“My rightful Lady,” quoth this woeful man,

“Whom I most dread, and love as I best can,

And lothest were of all this world displease,

Were ’t not that I for you have such disease,3351

That I must die here at your foot anon,

Nought would I tell how me is woebegone.

But certes either must I die or plain;3352

Ye slay me guiltëless for very pain.

But of my death though that ye have no ruth,

Advisë you, ere that ye break your truth:

Repentë you, for thilkë God above,

Ere ye me slay because that I you love.

For, Madame, well ye wot what ye have hight;3353

Not that I challenge anything of right

Of you, my sovereign lady, but of grace:

But in a garden yond’, in such a place,

Ye wot right well what ye behightë me,

And in mine hand your trothë plighted ye,

To love me best; God wot ye saidë so,

Albeit that I unworthy am thereto;

Madame, I speak it for th’ honoúr of you,

More than to save my heartë’s life right now;

I have done so as ye commanded me,

And if ye vouchësafe, ye may go see.

Do as you list, have your behest in mind,

For, quick or dead, right there ye shall me find;

In you lies all to do3354 me live or dey;3355

But well I wot the rockës be away.”