The Canterbury Tales, and Other Poems

soules that t

shortly as I

ill you say the gre

h it, when S

how he met

in armes hath y

their speech,

them till the day

ancestor Afr

ep that night

it, that from

hath him Cart

before of all

man, learned eith

ofit,* well y-thew'd,

a blissful pl

joy is with

k that here be dead *i

dwelling, in

d, "Yea, without

resent worldl

er death, <4> wh

olk should go,

nd showed hi

im the little ea

aven's quantity; *

d he him the ni

hat the mel

those spheres

of music be

here, and ca

since earthe was

t and of *harde gr

not him in this

im, in certain

r should come

all should *out of min

orld is done o

im Scipio, to

me into that

First know thy

that thou work and

fit, and thou

tly unto tha

is, and of soules

of the law, th

, after that they

out the world

passed, *out of dre

given all the

me unto that b

ome God thee

ailen, and th

tes from their bus

y book for l

gan me for to

thought and b

hing which that I

not that thing

, my spirit

abour all that da

at made me to

I mette,* as tha

ht in the *self a

m saw before t

tood right at m

nter, sleepi

in his mind

ameth how his

eameth how hi

he knight fights wi

e he drinketh

tte he hath

, if that th

d of Africane

o mette that h

e; "Thou hast t

mine old boo

raught not a lite,*

abour would I quite."*

f your

hou blissfu

d dauntest *when thee

his sweven* for

in this, for t

w the north-north

my sweven f

to rhyme it and e

Africane me he

th him unto

k, walled with

e, with letters

rses written,

f, of full gr

ou say the plain s

go into the bl

al and deadly

n go unto the

d lusty May sh

way to all g

eader, and thy

pass in and s

go," thus spak

rtal strokes

ain and dange

e shall fruit n

leadeth to the

ish in prison

g is the on

f gold and azu

an astonish'

one increase

r gan my heart to

* that other did

ror,* for to choose

ly, or me to

xten adamantes

ht, a piece

ight to move

hale,* the other let;

t whether me was bet*

till Africane, my g

v'd in at the ga

standeth writt

hou tell it not to me;

not to come i

nothing meant by* the

t* he Love's se

e hast lost thy

ath of sweet

, although tha

t not do, yet

n that may no

him at wrestl

he doth bet,** or

ddest cunning*

matter *of to write

hand in his

t caught,* and we

as glad and well-

where I my eyen

d with leaves th

d, with colour

that joy it

ak; and eke t

m, the coffer

ree; the holm,

r; the cypress

w; the aspe fo

ace, and eke t

; the laurel, t

, full of blos

er, in a g

etness everm

hite, blue, ye

streames, nothi

ull of smalle

d, and scales

h the birdes

f angels in

m their birdes

to their play gan h

r all abou

the buck, the har

stes small, of gen

ts of string

lay a ravish

t Maker is of

ever better

unneth* it might

leaves green

' song on loft.** *in

place so attem

e grievance* of hot

v'ry wholesome

y there waxe

ore joy a thousa

ll, or ever c

clear day, a

beside a wel

is arrows forge

eet his bow

ughter temper'd

well; and with her

er, as they shoulde s

nd some to wound an

re of Pleasan

, and Lust,

t, that can and

e a wight to d

she, I will no

lf, under an

that stood wi

eauty, with

full of game

s, Flattery,

d Meed, and ot

all not here b

lars great o

e of brass y-

ut the temple

of whiche so

ves, and some o

ishevell'd went t

* ever, from year to

mple saw I, w

ng many a thou

emple door,

at, a curtai

ide, wonder

sitting there

le, upon a h

t, within and

d of their folk a ro

mple, of sigh

that gan aboute r

were engender

ry hearte for

e; and well

e of sorrows that

bitter godde

pus <14> saw

ple, in sov're

when the ass him s

ght, and with

gan assay and

d to set, of

ll of freshe

ivy corner,

s and her po

and hautain* of he

place, but aft

nneth* it might b

of gold she

n began to west.* *de

aires with a

untressed,* as

m the breast

see; and, soot

, welle to my pay,*

ittle kerchief

thicker cloth

thousand savour

god of wine,

*doth of hunger boot;

iddes* lay Cypride

ees the young

elp: but thus

in the tem

tories of the lovers i

pite of Dian

owe broke hun

ch as go their

ce: and pain

ry, of which

f Calist',

f which the name I

Canace, a

o, Thisbe a

oude, Paris,

leopatra,

eke the moth

e painted on

ve, and in what

ome again in

, that was so s

I then, mysel

re where ther

ight the summ

ht so *over measure*

was than an

n, upon a hi

noble godde

re her halles

er her craft a

fowl that come

prest,* in her pr

nd give her audience.

on Saint Va

cometh to choose

nd that men

uge a noise g

sea, and tree,

unnethes* there

d, so full was

ain, in his Pla

of such array and

men mighte h

peress, full

owle take he

ont alway, fro

ntine's Day t

e *fowles of ravin

et, and then t

them Nature

, of which I

l sat lowest

live by seed sa

ny, that wonde

men the roy

sharpe look pi

agles of a

es well devise con;*

nt with his feathe

he goshawk, that do

outrageous ravine.

that with his feet

<24> the hardy*

e; the merlion

oft the larke

dove, with h

st* his death that sing

of death the bod

giant, with his

ough; and eke th

; <26> the eel's

ing, full of t

that the couns

and the coward ki

* is of *thorpes lite.*

nus' son; <28>

rth the freshe

murd'rer of t

ke of flowers

rtle, with hi

h his angel feat

orner of the coc

<32> the cuckoo

* full of del

troyer of his

reaker* of adult

rant, full of

e crow, with voi

nd the frosty fieldf

say? Of fowl

rld have feathe

n that place

noble goddes

did all his busy

choose, or

formel <39> or his m

int. Nature h

le, of shape

e among her

gn, and eke t

virtue at its res

hat Nature he

r, and oft he

icar of th'Al

heavy, light, an

y even numbe

e began to s

my sentence,"* I pra

se, in furth'ri

ay speak, I w

how, on Saint

, and through

r mates, and

ricke with pleasance;*

, as by right

for all this wor

ost is worthy

le, as ye know

l, above you

orthy, secret,

ormed have, a

t, as it bes

s shape you to de

and speaken *in his g

m, by order sh

nd, evereach

is, shall ye win

at love most entrik

hat sorest for him

al the tercel

on, the choice

ess, in thi

oice of ev'rea

gree to hi

t shoulde be her

sage ay, from

at this time h

e came into this pla

and with full humb

rcel spake, a

n lady, and not m

, with will, and h

your hand, so

l, and ever w

, to do me live

her of mercy

is my lady

here present

ng may I not

rven ev'ry vein:* *eve

y unto my truth,

have on my woe s

I be found

r wilful neglig

cess* love a new, *br

this be my judg

les I be all to-ren

that she me e

e, or in my

ne loveth her

ver of love me

to be mine, thr

one on her knit;* *I ca

oe, never shall I

how far so tha

list, my tale

e freshe re

summer Sunne

shame, all wax

, when she had

well, nor said amiss,*

s she, till Nature

d you not, I you assu

rcel eagle

and said that

ter than ye do,

st I love her

ve her serv'd

ld have lov'd f

been the guerd

ay, if she me

e,* rebel in an

ange by the halse;*

re me in her s

s my wit can

point, her hon

fe and all the

l eagle answer

see the littl

owl cries o

mate, or with

re herselfe

er, not half t

I must for sorrow

avaunt* I me n

ble is me to

e that hath b

inter; and we

, and *more to pay,* *

r, although i

t served hath *full yo

his by me fo

e that may m

am her truest man,

fainest would her ple

until that death me

s, whether I

ll that heart

, since that d

love or other thing,

ever no man

de leisure and

their cheer an

orrow gan thes

went the Sun

for to be deliver'd*

Have done and le

e wood had all to-shi

d; "alas! ye will us

cursed pleadi

judge either

withouten any

e duck, and t

eke," "cuckoo," "

e ears the noise

hen, "All this n

shape here

verdict, fair an

whoso be wroth o

m-fowl," said

of mine ow

take on me the ch

er us is gre

a while yet, p

turtle; "if i

eak, it were a

-fowl, one t

ll, and the le

that a wight'

im of* such doing

her rede* can no

l foul himself acclo

ncommanded o

ch that alw

f the lewed

d, "Hold your tongues

oon, I hope,

, and from thi

lock* ye shall one

erdict of yo

d then in this ma

were to prov

st this gentl

ath such repli

ay none be brought

e that argu

that there mus

th those eagle t

oth he; "if tha

, my tale is n

it not agrief,* I pra

as ye would,

ce that have th

oom ye muste stand.*

s' de

'Peace!' I sa

nk, how that

, and had lon

e, of blood t

her, *if that her le

e she knows hersel

; for it is ligh

les have thei

rt advisement,* *afte

h his verdic

oothly all b

ith the *facond gent,

to pronounce our

tale;" and pray

e water-fowl

speak. and in

, now! take keep*

at reason I sh

arp, I love

im, though he

him, let him love

erfect reason

wke. "Never may

g 'tis t'have

, yet were it bet

, than show'd thy n

n his wit, no

aid, a fool ca

rose of gentl

n the seed-fo

e, and gan her

say the *soothe sa

and asked what sh

r'd, that pla

w, and soothly

bid a lover s

, and wax'd for

ady evermore be st

rve her ay, ti

ise not the goose

ied, I would none

till that the

th the ducke, "by my

uld loven al

son find, or

erry, that i

that is reckeless?*

the duck, "full well an

arres, God wot,

!" quoth the g

nghill came th

see which thing

love, as owle

nds, full well t

of so low a

s, thou caust no

put him forth in p

eth worm, and sai

e, "may have my

ow longe that

e solain* all thei

since they may n

esson needeth

lutton fill'd en

l!" saide the e

e heggsugg,* on the

forth, thou most r

lain, worme'

ck of thy nature;* *th

le the world may dare!

of re

uoth Nature, "

heard all y

t be we ne'er th

, this is my

elf shall hav

oso be *wroth or bli

h, he shall her have

may not here

best, as sai

this favour t

t him on whom h

at his heart h

ture, for* I may

ve none other eye.* *

her l

ounsel for to

son, [certes]

u the royal

celet full skilf

entilest, an

ought so well t

be *a suffisance."* *

e the formel her an

lady, godde

ever under your yerd

ry other

rs, while that

ante me my first

t you will I s

u," said she;

e spake in this

en, until thi

spite to

to have my ch

some that I woul

although ye *do

serve Venus,

yet, by no ma

none other ways

ure, "there is

that these fo

ate, for longer

thus, as ye sh

I, ye tercels,

art, and serve

ot so longe

*pain him* in hi

l, for, God w

year, what a

ressed* for you all.

work y-brought

le Nature ga

d on their way they

bliss and joye

m gan other in

es each gan other w

y the noble g

chosen fowles

was alway their

undel at the

ure honour a

rowe, maked w

re such as ye

se, as I have

ime, tard

ummer, with th

r weathers overshake

e, thou art fu

y the longe night

malle fowles

for to gladden* oft

em recover'd hat

ay they sing wh

ting, when their

maden at thei

other bookes

n; and yet

s, to reade

meete somethi

s to read I will

it.* *

he Assembl

fourth legion. He had talked long and earnestly of his adoptive grandfather with Massinissa, King of Numidia, the intimate friend of the great Scipio; and at night his illustrious ancestor appeared to him in a vision, foretold the overthrow of Carthage and all his other triumphs, exhorted him to virtue

ticiple of "nime," from An

the gods would show him, in del

vita mors est." ("Truly, as i

l the others; the Earth, around which the planets and the highest heaven revolve;

trious, noble;

the tun: The sick man dreams tha

looking to the NNW is not plain; h

taken from the description of the gates of dreams in the Odyssey and the Aeneid; but the it

a nella cit

a nell' ete

a tra la pe

the way to the

the way to ete

the way of the

who enter here" - is evidently paraphrased in Chaucer's words "Th'eschewing is the

the sufferers being represented as fish enclosed in

asing it into "the vineprop elm" - because it was planted as a pillar or prop to the vine; it is called "the coffer unto carrain," or "carrion," because coffins for the dead were made from it. The box, pipe tree: the box tree was used for making pipes or horns. Holm: the holly, used for whip-handles. The sailing fir: Because ships' masts and spars were made of its wood. The cypress death to plain: in Spenser's imitation, "the cypr

ay suppose them to be Charms, Sorcery, and Leasings who, in The Knight's Tale, come after Bawdry

the peacock of Juno, Jove's armour bearing bird, "Cythereiadasque

as being the embodiment of the principle of fertility in flocks

he night following a feast of sylvan and Bacchic deities, the braying of the ass

ughty, lofty; F

ench, "payer," to pay, satisfy; the same word often

famed for the fabrication of

e et Libero friget Venus," ("Love is frozen without freedo

Cypris," from the island of Cyprus, in wh

ued her brother Caunus with her love, till she was changed to a fountain; Ovid, "Metamorphoses." lib. ix. Thisbe and Pyramus: the Babylonian lovers, whose death, through the error of Pyramus in fancying that a lion had slain his mistress, forms the theme of the interlude in the "Midsummer Night's Dream." Sir Tristram was one of the most famous among the knights of King Arthur, and La Belle Isoude was his mistress. Their story is mixed up with the Arthurian romance; but it was also the subject of separate treatment, being among the most popular of the Middle Age legends. Achilles is reckoned among Love's conquests, because, according to some traditions, he loved Polyxena, the daughter of Priam, who was promised to him if he consented to join the Trojans; and, going without arms into Apollo's temple at Thymbra, he was there slain by Paris. Scylla: Love-stories are told of two maidens of this name; one the daughter of Nisus, King of

ready; Fren

tor of the twelfth century, who wrote a book "

t, but to be caressed and petted, even on occasions of ceremony, Hence also it is called

m called "emerlon;" French, "emerillon;" t

ning humbler birds, out of

and pretences to divert approaching dang

Venus' son: Becau

e nightingale is charmingly sa

le Ages; and in accordance with this fashion Spenser represents the Angel that guarded Sir Guyon ("F

; it has been supposed, however, to refer to the frequent breeding of pheasants at night with

s doves, "Nec servataris vigili Capitolia voce cederet anseribus" - "nor would it yield (in whiteness) to the geese destined wi

ce of this epithet is amply explained by t

e ducklings - which, if not pre

y, on account of the extreme veneration in which they are held by the Turks, stole all the eggs out of a nest, and replaced them with those of a hen: in process of time the young chickens came forth, much to the astonishment of Mr and Mrs Stork. In a short time Mr S. went off, and was not seen for two or three days, when he returned with an immense crowd of his compa

hen the stomach is crammed it will often have the gullet

l omens supposed to be aff

ts this country only i

the eagle and hawk, is here used generally of the female of al

nares; french, "intriguer," t

eddle with; French, ' en

to be of light heart and sing, for abunda

lone; the same word o

arent bird out of the nest, thus engrossing the mother's entire care. The crime on which the emerlon comments so sharply, is explained by the migratory habits of the cuckoo, which prevent its bringing up its own you

oundel inculcates the duty of constancy, which has been

WER AND

h of agnus castus in her hand, begins a roundel, in honour of the Leaf, which all the others take up, dancing and singing in the meadow before the arbour. Soon, to the sound of thundering trumps, and attended by a splendid and warlike retinue, enter nine knights, in white, crowned like the ladies; and after they have jousted an hour and more, they alight and advance to the ladies. Each dame takes a knight by the hand; and all incline reverently to the laurel tree, which they encompass, singing of love, and dancing. Soon, preceded by a band of minstrels, out of the open field comes a lusty company of knights and ladies in green, crowned with chaplets of flowers; and they do reverence to a tuft of flowers in the middle of the meadow, while one of their number sings a bergerette in praise of the daisy. But now it is high noon; the sun waxes fervently hot; the flowers lose their beauty, and wither with the heat; the ladies in green are scorched, the knights faint for lack of shade. Then a strong wind beats down all the flowers, save such as are protected by the leaves of hedges and groves; and a mighty storm of rain and hail drenches the ladies and knights, shelterless in the now flowerless meadow. The storm overpast, the company in white, whom the laurel-tree has safely shielded from heat and storm, advance to the relief of the others; and when their clothes have been dried, and their wounds from sun and storm healed, all go together to sup with the Queen in white - on whose hand, as they pass by the arbour, the Nightingale perc

ebus his car

up the starr

ull <1> ente

weet of rain d

unde, fele* tim

ve many a wh

lain was y-

n, and maketh

e and there in

nd wholesome b

newe what wa

me; and out

herbe, so th

on waxeth glad

ad of thilke

on a certain night,

sleep full unmeet*

but why tha

or there n'as* eart

, had more h

sickness nor disease.

marvel great

ong without

three houres

nging of the [

gear* and mine

asant grove

brighte sun

akes great, str

h the grass, s

ng; and an eig

ell from his

broad, laden w

out against th

2> and some a g

ught, was right

birdes' song

ejoiced any

ould not yet,

ngale of* all th

rkened with h

e perceive co

a path of little

t greatly ha

was with grass a

h* a wight migh

some whither goes, p

w'd [it], till

asant arbour,

as, and [all]

d, <4> whereof

ick, so short,

to green wool

*yeden in compass,*

ll the greene h

t and eglatere,* *eg

* so well and cun

nd leaf grew *by me

*a height by and by:*

thing, I you e

r he that took the

I trow did

all those that

s this arbour

etty parlo

thick was as

st without to

ld all day pr

see if there

but one with

hose that went

ld, that was

rn and grass; t

ld seeken all

elde could n

of the quantity;*

hing there was ple

this pleasant

nly I felt so

entere, th

art, I deem, i

houghtes frowa

should soon have boo

t this *savour swo

d, and cast a

f the faires

in all my life

lossoms as i

ldfinch leap

bough; and as

of the buds and

rbour side w

ree, of which

ast the bird

eaten what

weetly, that

t than I could devi

song was ended

ale with so

, that all t

*as it were a sote,

nd'; so was I

at, *till late and lo

what place I w

ht, she sung e'

I waited a

, if that I m

ast I gan fu

in a fresh gre

er side, eve

passing a del

eglantere full we

d so inly gr

ought, I surel

se, where [

e, and no fa

ay; and on th

, *as for mine int

ore *convenient,* *app

asant to me,

drink, or an

rbour was so

savours eke

eemed, since

ere] never seen *ere

ground of no

the birdes h

at I heard vo

etest and mo

t, I *trow truely,

ir life; for

ord was in so

s to angels' m

out of a gr

goodly, and ple

here came, si

adies; but t

eauty, lies no

ray; neverth

t, though I sp

, of velvet well f

d, and the se

mannere [of

emeraldes,

t many a riche

rfles,* out of doub

eves, and train

s, round and ori

es fine, an

tone, of which I w

; and ev'reac

gold, which, without

y* riche stones se

lady had

f branches fres

ught, and so

right noble

l, and some f

woodbine; and s

s castus <8>

but there were ma

and eke sung

*in manner of comp

went, in mid

f; but all fol

whose heavenl

s, and her wel

y she pass'd

hly beseen,

o in ev'ry

, full pleasa

olde, rich f

agnus castus

, and to my

s of all th

n a roundell

foyle, devers

joly coeur est

e company a

et entuned, and

ght it the s

rd in my life,

came, dancin

dest of the

rbour where

hought I was well-

advise* them one

, who best coul

womanly was

d but a *little th

hearde far o

e of thund'ring

departed* have the

within a while

rove, where the

coming such a

on earth had bee

well horsed for t

t, that all the

ak of riches,

I trow the large

n, <11> nor al

ve bought the tenth

ay: whoso li

e so as I can a

ove, that I s

t, all in their

at wore, for

esh of oake

d trumpets* were t

mp hanging a

was, full richly beat;*

t his lord's

cks, with grea

for cost they would no

m, for their sc

with many a p

harness was

em next, in

s at armes

white cloth wi

een upon their

t they on their

pearl, and rub

at diamonde

horse harness,

it accordin

rd the foresai

*were nothing to lear,

they did all man

hem came a

and pursui

clothes of

ey were no thing

hem shoulde t

man had on

and eke harn

hem that 'fore them yed

w

m in came, in

heades, seeml

sp and nail,

ess was of re

gold, and furr

* of their steedes

arge, that to t

ridle and paytrel*

n, was worth, a

nd; and on the

crownes of the

de that ever

ight had aft

n* upon him aw

irst], on a short

t bare, so richly

them was worthy

the second a

ack; the thir

full sharp y-g

de* ware of le

plet on his

ite of fine ve

trapped and

ence, as their

m, on many a

knightes such a ro

pread the lar

waren, after

we made of l

ak, and some

ndes bare boughe

l, and some o

rn, and some o

e which I ha

e, their horses

undes of their

*uncouth disguising*

of these kn

st, as evenly

place in midde

ght turned hi

, and lightly

t; and so th

t aboute, he

ear, some threw d

ld astray the

eir rule and gove

it was a gre

s last'* an hour

crowned were

their dintes* wer

none against th

ing was alle

horse the nin

ll the remna

went together,

ld it was a

adies on the

danced as I

s soon as the

both the song a

m with full glad sem

ady took, f

t, and so forth ri

laurel that

he boughs of great

there never was,

seene half so

t there might we

t their own pleasance

the heat of

de have felt no gr

aile that the

ke rejoice w

n sick or me

and virtuous.* *fu

rev'rence the

sweet and fair of

ithin a *little t

n to sing and

some *plaining of u

ee that stood upri

lady and a kni

ast I cast m

re of a lu

ming out of t

hand a knigh

l in surcoats

any a riche stone; *t

ht of green wa

ll, so as the

had a chapl

t well upon the

ly flowers, w

eke, that the

em ware chapl

re went minst

ipes, lutes,

reen; and, on t

owers, made

, goodly chap

g into the me

ch they found

flowers in compass*

hey incline

erence, and th

ast there th

to sing rig

14> in praisi

ught, among he

douce est la

answered her in

well, and s

[most] blissfu

, it happen'd su

on the sun

at the pretty

eauty of their

e ladies eke to-brent,**

ot where they mi

lack of shade nigh shen

at, within a

gan so stur

t all the flo

the mead ther

uccour'd were

orm that migh

edges and thick gre

t there came

,* so that witho

the knights had

pping was [all] the

storm was pas

ite, that stood

hing of all th

without *had in y

went for ruth

fter their great

the helpless for to

re how one of

rich and well s

eemed well sh

on her were await

en in white t

he knightes eke *i

rt them, and m

ite, that was o

d the queen tha

Sister, I ha

of your troublous t

and your com

! and if that

, I shall you

leasure that

ther, humbly

for in righ

rm and heat, I yo

lady then a

ite, one of the

ch when that the

e each of them

, and forth wit

where that t

oustes,<16> the

e down, and ek

made them state

othes, that wer

, of herbes th

blisters of the

ry good, whol

went the sick

t they went a

es, which they

h their great

the Leaf the

ower (for so,

called, as by

er; and eke,

with her all h

n in right g

st of her most

ely, that sh

heart, all he

n, without l

the Leaf hat

after her intent,* *a

in fair har

t *to him longe sho'ld.

that, to al

ey* horse and ev

ded; and then

rbour where I

all, so merr

have comfort

w a passing w

ightingale, th

urel sat, and

vice to sing

began to ta

ady of the L

set her on h

hing I marvel

eke, that from

heat into the

y of the Flo

nd he set him

ly his winge

ain'd them* both, as so

*of all* the da

s rode forth *a gr

out of knight

all this *wonder case

would assay i

the truth of

were that rode

were the arb

* and happ'd to meet

ady, I do you

riding by h

then] with semb

nd bade good adv

all, as I cou

y daughter, gramercy

h I, "if that

uld fain, of

e that pass'd b

n answered r

hter, all that

hing, be serv

af; and I m

r that crowned

te?" - "Madame," t

n', goddess

use that she

the branch sh

stus <8> men

ladies in

of that herbe

ave kept alw

hat of laurel

were in manly de

me which neve

*worthy of their ha

hat no one might

t weare chaple

bind, be such

in word, in tho

t; nor for plea

d their heartes all to

* but ever were s

es there asunder bra

e," quoth I, "y

p, if that i

knowe, by s

it hath like

hese ladies fo

e knightes be

be in green and

ome did rev'ren

the plot of

will, my daughter

s good and debonair;

e *very exemplair*

ur longing

n be call'd The

see now ridi

time did man

worthiness ful

aurel leaves u

n your olde

he that was

l alway his

t beare boughe

ious laurel

ere, I will

ghtes of the R

ouceperes hon

bear in sign

f their deed

nightes old <21

r time did r

ey did to the lau

y have their laud

h eke, and m

em is more pe

ht imagine c

f given of t

that hath d

ne so as it o

ur than any

me, that foun

thood and dee

e of Titus L

r that crowne

of these fl

here on her a

folk that lo

ighted in n

t and hawk, an

er such-like

reat delight a

he flow'r, and

it do such

" "Now, fair M

k, what is the

ve the ensign* o

leaf than by

r," quoth she, "t

hould ever be

hout feintise* or s

better in all

ich, with lea

rded after t

ay not appaired* be

their beauty f

o storm that m

ow, nor wind no

have this pro

ow'r, within a

t, so simple

o grievance* may end

rm will blow t

te not but f

ause, the ver

not, by no w

no such oc

I, "with all m

ow, in my mos

m ascertain'

g that I desi

ad that I have

sure, if ye will m

in; "but to w

nd which wolle*

this year, the Le

I, "though I b

f I owe mine

she, "right wel

od, to honou

from the wick

and all his crue

ood and well-c

y I no longe

ow the grea

ee yonder bef

, as I coulde

of her, and sh

s fast as sh

eward, for it

hat I had see

f them that lis

hou art so uncun

ut thyself in pre

that thou w

w'st full lite* who

l *boistously unfold.*

shed f

it.* *

he Flower

n of Taurus, which t

leaves are red

Cuckoo and the Nightingale," that it was of good omen to hear the

d with seats, which had be

yead," is the

fool - Fr

59 to The

the chaste-tree;

round again to the verse with which it opened, o

, son et mon joli coeur est endormi" - "Under the folia

w supposed to have been, not a Christian monarch of Abyssinia, b

of oak which Pliny, in his "Na

Cloth of Tars

bergerette, or

arete.": "So sweet is the

ome editions made part of the adornment of the Temple of Venus; and as the word "jousts" would there carry the g

rand merci," Fre

hampions of Christendom. The Worthies were favourite subject

ed equal in valour and noble qualities, sat at a round table

agne (les douze pairs), chief a

believed that Edward III. did not establish a new, but only revived

urel-tree; Fre

d the laurel crown as the highest military honour. For instance, in 1. vii. c. 13, Sextus Tullius, remonstrating for the army against the inaction in which it is kept, tells the Dictator Sulpicius, "

under the title of Evil-mouth - Itali

t it read: the phrase means - trus

r; not, it need hardly be said, "into the press" in the modern sens

OUSE

wards him. With the prologue, the first book numbers 508 lines; of which 192 only - more than are actually concerned with or directly lead towards the real subject of the poem - are given here. The second book, containing 582 lines, of which 176 will be found in this edition, is wholly devoted to the voyage from the Temple of Venus to the House of Fame, which the dreamer accomplishes in the eagle's claws. The bird has been sent by Jove to do the poet some "solace" in reward of his labours for the cause of Love; and during the transit through the air the messenger discourses obligingly and learnedly with his human burden on the theory of sound, by which all that is spoken must needs reach the House of Fame; and on other matters suggested by their errand and their observations by the way. The third book (of 1080 lines, only a score of which, just at the outset, have been omitted) brings us to the real pith of the poem. It finds the poet close to the House of Fame, built on a rock of ice engraved with names, many of which are half-melted away. Entering the gorgeous palace, he finds all manner of minstrels and historians; harpers, pipers, and trumpeters of fame; magicians, jugglers, sorcerers, and many others. On a throne of ruby sits the goddess, seeming at one moment of but a cubit's stature, at the next touching heaven; and at either hand, on pillars, stand the great authors who "bear up the name" of ancient nations. Crowds of people enter the hall from all regions of earth, praying the goddess to give them good or evil fame, with and without their own deserts; and they receive answers favourable, negative, or contrary, according to the caprice of Fame. Pursuing his researches further, out of the region

s ev'ry dr

thing, by the R

hat causeth sw

morrows or

ffect follow

e it shall

s is an

s a rev

ream, why th

'ry man *like

hantom, why

whoso of t

knoweth b

for I cert

* nor ever think

it for to sw

f their s

, neither t

f them, no

his more than

lke's co

dream of r

hus, as ot

t feebleness

nce, or by

trife, or gr

disordinance

customance;*

men be t

or melan

o inly ful

em *boote bede;* *

s that

and conte

them such d

he cruel

at unkind

hope much

ly their

m to have

spirits hav

lk to drea

of *proper kind,

rfect as

t* what is to

t warneth

h of their

ns, or b

r fleshe ha

standen

warned t

e cause is

this thing gre

of this and

f none

now make

that the

very drea

since that

n elles m

trowe steadfa

rful a d

day now o

as I can

ellen ev'ry

inning, trust

make in

ecial d

god of Sl

h in a cave

am that com

flood of h

olk men ca

eth ay this

leepy thou

sleep their won*

d, that I *of

hat he wi

for to t

eam stands

at Mover

d was, and

em joye th

hey dream to-y

anden all in

oves, or i

efest* for to sta

from povert' a

'ry unhap a

all that may

well, and s

n* in their tho

alicious

through p

scorn, or

ape,* or vill

t, pray I

e barefoot,

y harm th

ce that the

ereof, ere he

e may it deserve

such a

of his

t was the ki

upon a g

r shall he

charity.* *no

n, as I ha

ette ere I ab

er the te

night to s

was wont

asleepe w

was for go*<5> *wa

rimage

nt* Leonard,

he that ers

slept, me

emple made

here were

anding in s

riche tab

rie* more pin

urious por

nner* of figure

ork, than

ly, I wiste*

it was, but

f Venus

e; for in

n right h

ating in

on her he

arland whi

mb to comb

s, and D

son, and

s face was

traitures" and gold work. About three hundred and fifty lines are devoted to the description; but they merely embody Virgil's account of Aeneas' adventures from the destructi

woman do

im that u

ist, lo! th

gold that glar

brook I we

der goodlihead*

a shrewed*

no wight be so

ve only for

or for frie

hall ev'ry

his pure kind,* *by

n outward

ght that which h

non will c

e how she

privy* double

by* Aeneas *w

r *nice lest,* *

all too s

I will say

t fully kno

y lay it

d,* this is n

to know who had worked all those wonders, and in what country he was; so he

at the do

boute me

a large feld,

that I m

wn, or hous

ss, or ered* la

field was

men may see

desert

manner

formed b

o *rede or wiss.*

ought I, "that

illusion* *vain fa

and with

to the hea

I ware at

e by the s

ith mine eye, *as wel

I saw an

seemed muche

ad any e

sooth as de

ld, and shon

saw men s

heaven had y

om God, an

eagle's fea

ward gan it light

brief invocation of Venus and

of which I h

ith feathers

so high beg

olde more

beauty and

s there dint

at men calle foud

ometimes a t

fte coming bre

he* gan desc

l, when tha

oam was in

is grim pa

sharpe na

swap* he hent,*

sours <10>

n his clawes

s I had be

I cannot

up, I wis

him by the assurance that what now befalls him is for his instruction and profit. Answering the poet's unspoken inquiry whether he

thou has

ntentively* *wit

ephew* Cupid

re Venu

guuerdon

ess hast s

n thy head full

kes, songs,

or elles

st canst,

d of his se

service soug

thee to pra

u haddest ne

all so Go

s it great

eke, that t

l oft thy h

udy so th

re of love

of him and

folke's f

atter all devi

nor his fo

u may'st go

t him list

as I said

ell consi

sire,* other t

at thou has

folk, if t

ht elles th

nly from

idings co

y very ne

n almost at

t neither t

hy labour

ade thy reck

rest and

home to thy

o dumb as

est at an

zed* is thy l

t thus as

bstinence is lit

the House of Fame, to do him some pleasure in recompense

e come the

thinges, dar

folke mo

and leasings;* *tru

loves n

y-served

e loves

o man knows why,

ind man sta

jollity a

de *love of steel,*

them, and ov

ds, and mor

s, and more

dissimu

ned repa

eardes, in

razor or

than graine

olding in hand

e renovelanc

aintances;* *broken-o

15> and more acc

struments

love more

es were in gra

pies [magpies] and all the spies in a kingdom, she should

ou heare where

ine own booke

stands, as

in middes

v'n, and ear

e'er in all

y or apert,* *se

eto is so ov

in so just* a p

sound must

comes from

* read, or su

surety or d

ither need."* *it m

only broken air, so every sound must come to Fame's House, "though it were piped of a mouse" - on the same principle by which every part of a mass of water

y head, for

n, lo! bon

he House o

not heare

h I. "The gr

hat rumbleth

ouse, full

speech and

ooth compouned;* *

it is not rown

the greate swough

!" quoth I,

nd is it lik

e beating

ainst the ro

s do the shi

an stand, o

, and hear it

last humbling* *du

clap of a

hath the

h me for f

hee not there

hing will

no harme ha

hat word b

e place ar

ht caste w

how, but

fair upo

"Walke fo

venture or case,*

find in Fame's p

I, "while w

re that I g

e of God, a

I will of the

noise th

ave heard

t down in e

here in t

eard, ere t

e living body

house that

this loude far

red he, "by

ly God rede me;

I will warne t

h thou wilt

House of

how cometh

t thee eft* t

and now rig

speech

palace,

the same wight**

he word in e

h'd in red

areth his

ord, that thou w

the same

n or woman

this a wond

I then, "by H

word, "Farew

ill abide* t

Heaven send

earen* in this

him took

th to the p

the rhyme is light and lewd," to "make it somewhat agreeable, though some verse fail in a syllable." If

from this

old upon

n, ere I f

the shape dev

d city; and

o this plac

n so high a ro

ndeth none

imb'd with

e *grieved me,* *co

ve* was to se

e* wondrous lo

ld any w

stone this

like a thin

shone full

at congea

wist not

he last

it was *ev'ry d

ice, and n

y Saint Thoma

eeble fundame

lace so high; *o

lite* to gl

built, God

ll the half

folke's name

in muche weal,

fames wi

thes* might I

ters fo

y; for out of

almost off

e letters

way of ev'ry

as wox* their

, "What may

my heart to ca

ere molt aw

ay with st

other side

l, that nor

written f

hat had gr

mes, and y

men had wr

ay, right e

on them g

iste what it

served wit

ting which

e that sto

ke on so co

it not deface.*

on this h

e cop* a won,** *

he men tha

ing to descrive* *

of that l

no compass* *fin

ther for

auty be its make

wondrousl

onieth yet

l my wit to s

castle for

the grea

and curiosit

to you devi

may me no

ess all th

t in my r

thoughte, by

of stone

castle and

ll, and ev'ry

pieces or

le compassings

and pinnacles,

s and ta

eke full

fall in gr

each of t

itacles,* *apar

tooden, al

castle

nner of m

rs,<23> tha

ing and of g

t longeth

d I play u

d bothe wel

eus, full

his side

harper A

eacides C

harpers

eat Glasge

s, with their gle

r them in s

them upwa

rfeit them

feiteth kind.* *art

standing

hem, all by

sand time

loude mi

and eke in s

any anot

tily bega

lcet <28>

feastes wit

flute and l

made of gr

ttle herde-groom

beastes in

I then Dan

ens Dan Pr

<30> that lo

face, body

he would

etter tha

famous, ol

lle Dutche

ove-dances

and these st

I in anot

in a la

make bloody*

am,* and clari

ht and blo

ladly cla

I trumpe M

peaketh V

I Joab tru

<36> and

that use

ogne and

eir times

saw I tru

I sit in o

upon sun

I cannot n

starres be

will not

you, and l

lost, thi

may reco

ay jongelours,

and trege

sses, <39>

ches, and s

e exorc

ubfumigat

ke, which know

s magic

ily do the

certain asce

! through

man be who

the queen

43> eke, and

Hermes Bal

and eke Sim

I, and kne

h art do me

I Colle Tr

able of

* thing to tell

m carry

walnut

d I make

eople I ther

e even to

all this

nd not y-hold,* *at li

mused lo

e walles

lighter tha

more* than it w

ev'rythi

g of Fame it is

roam until I

gate on my

so well y-

ch another n'

as by Advent

t by *subtile cur

not you m

ou too lo

gates' fl

ses,* nor car

ey had in

<49> full

so fair it

with gold beh

went, and

I crying

argess! <50>

Lady of this

gentle

hat will t

us heard I

ey came out

les and sterlin

crowned wer

wrought fal

bands, and

heir clot

the last

ntes and hera

e folke's lau

n all; an

as I you

m throwen

n call a coat

ed wondro

re *naught y-lich;

will I, so

rive* *concern mys

armes that

us on their

me were

make of th

ote thick

in, whoso

e all the

folk tha

, Europe,

t began th

uld I now t

hall eke

you that

loor, and ro

d half a

t was nothing wi

o prove i

ducat of

o little in

t as thick of no

he finest

d in the Lap

s growen

l too long to

and there

rich and l

s Hall y-c

s of folk there

g for too m

high, abo

e* imperial

e was of

carbuncle i

petually

nine c

r formed

ther thing y

,* sooth to say

at she was so

length of

than she se

soon in a

n wonderful

feet the ear

head she to

ne the starr

eke, as to my

reater wo

eyen to

s I them

yen* hadde she

rs upon f

n the bea

's throne

t in th'Apo

dy was and crips,*

d gold it s

to tellen

le* upstandin

, as on bea

r feet wa

' winges r

errie* and riches

ing on thi

heaven

s full o

out her th

he palace

the might

led is C

t sisteren*

eir faces

rmore e

f Fame as t

hou and thy n

f Renown

ware, lo! a

e eyen g

s ilke n

ders gan sus

armes, an

hat hadde

r, and H

irt his life l

I sitting t

honour an

a while now, *refr

things to

stand on

wn unto the

dais, man

at shone not

they were o

y made for g

eate sentence.

gne* reverence

u telle fand,* *I w

pillars s

, lo! there

llar stan

f lead and

secte Sat

w Josephu

gestes* told; *

on his sho

fame up

stooden o

worthy for t

aren up the ch

heavy an

ey writen o

other old

was, lo! t

hat I you

nd iron b

arte's met

god is of

e lead, wi

he metal

large wheel*

forth, on

hich I co

hem not by

ou too lo

he which I

standen, o

ron pilla

all endelong* *fr

s blood in

that highte

of Thebes

houlders,

cruel

d, withoute lea

ous high o

e, the gre

m Dares and

eke he, Lo

eke de Col

Gaufrid <67>

these, as

for to be

hereof was

o bear it

gan full

em was a l

hat Homer

in his

the Greeks

eld he it b

I stand o

f tinned i

Latin poe

hath up a

of piou

him on a

Venus' cl

y-sowen wo

god of Lo

e bare up w

pillar a

see it wi

is hall whe

ht, and length, a

a thousand

erst, that

I on a

ought full

e poet, D

shoulders

that I mi

Julius and

stood all t

of Rome's m

ould their

onge must

im on a pi

ike as he wer

, <69> the s

p all the f

and of P

he darke pine* *the

I telle m

as alle fu

olde gests,* *hist

trees roo

ull confus

ese gestes

e, and how they h

hat I behel

e approache bl

s bees do in

eir time o

a manner

world, it

look abou

came enteri

reat comp

of sundry

nds and c

in earth un

nd rich; an

re come in

down on kn

ilke* noble

t us, Lady sheen

thy grace a

them she g

arned* well an

ranted the con

asking

I say y

e was, I n'ist;* *

e folk full

good fame e

y were diver

r sister, D

*in commune.* *c

n how she

an of her g

lo! all t

,* and not

hus quoth t

here bes

rant us now

workes hav

recomp

k, give us

ou," quoth sh

f me good

therefore

th they, "a

at may you

st* me not," qu

all speak o

rm, nor tha

at word she

ger, that

at he shoul

to be bl

s, the go

there ye sh

m bring hi

l diverse o

called C

wont is to her

me list y-

bid him h

his othe

nder in ev'ry t

t is to diffame*

list, and d

nger gan f

ere, in a ca

ry that hi

harde grace,* *Evil

es in distress

em under h

egan as bea

d pressed t

nger gan f

oth he, "and

ou at my

clarions ek

hee forth."

ne that hight

s to beare

certain

so hideous

e not a sky*

lkin* long an

nowhere ab

s come to

that Triton he

stood as st

ithal ther

r huge

olk, and g

ant us go

workes hav

nour of g

God your

ve well d

ght we be well

" quoth she,

s shall yo

me good f

e what, I

ve a shrewde* fa

and worse name,

od los have

way, for y

an Aeolus,

thy trump an

called Sla

ir los, that

and shrewedness,*

good and

lt trump all

have done, we

what adventures

e sorry c

amonges all

be shamed

it muste

this Aeol

s blacke tr

r than the

s trumpet f

orld 't woul

ut every

foule trum

as pellet

is in the

smoke gan o

s foule tr

nish, swart,* and

en that me

from the tewel

one thing saw

farther t

er waxen

iver from a w

nk as the

was their s

less, on e

the thir

the dais to

knees they

, "We be

t have f

fame ri

ou that it

is, and fo

quoth she,

goode works be

shall have

e of all

is, and that

th she, "thy

s, that is

ne other tr

e Laud, an

the world the

nd not t

knowen at

y, Lady min

p of gold he bra

set it to

east, and we

as loud as

wight had o

n ere that it

all the bre

trumpet's m

ot of balme

asket ful

he to their lose

with this

the fourt

they were

standen in

"Certes,

well with a

eep* to have

workes an

s love! fo

it for bounty,*

manner ot

you all yo

let your wor

turn'd abo

the fifthe ro

Lady gan to l

n knees an

then beso

eir good w

ey gave* not

me, nor s

for conte

s love had

would they

th she, "an

for to do good,

have of t

* to have my nam

hall lie

rump, and

ou Aeolus, I h

se folkes wo

e world may

their los* so

s golden

the worlde we

ndly, and

fame was

ame the si

ast on Fame t

ily in th

; "Mercy,

certain

e neither t

our life ha

eless ye

y have as

n, and knowen*

ave done noble

ll their quests,* *

Love, as

er brooch, nor

aught from

n their he

only frie

upon bier;* *might

eople seem (by thei

orld may of u

oven us for

us do as

heart as

* ease, and trava

won it w

s deare bo

our great ease. *

st us more plea

holden e

d wise, an

and happy

love, that

may not th

yet, so Go

* on us the

hat we have

quoth she, "

s, withou

trump of gold

as they ha

ween* them at

in full *bad leas

us gan it

the world i

the sevent

on knees

"Lady, gr

hing, the

you have done." *the

" quoth she

ine, ye idl

tten slowe tetche

thieves! e

and nothing n'ou

ver raught,* *recke

you to ha

like the s

fish; but, kno

o thing wet

t come to

mine, if

u to avaunt.* *

, thou King

olk a *sorry gr

non; and know

telle the

e they that

do no kind

ood, and ye

een'd that Bel

ve wern;* *could not

grinds at the q

ood to ease

lus anon

his black

blazen o

bellows w

ewith, the s

as so full of

mows* in ap

nt all the

wight gan o

ugh as they w

in their hood.* <78> *

e anothe

done the

nd the grea

hearte co

her to have

would do th

em los and

in clarioun. *cau

uoth she, "it

re in me n

not to

ill I gran

e leaping in a

ppen* all abou

n upon t

e hall bega

ady lefe* and

folk as y

all the ta

ery wight, *wicke

elight in

olk have i

be y-know

and *wicked thews

y you *on a row,

fame be s

ngs right

you," quoth

thou that say

thy hose a pale,

tippet su

uoth he, "s

shrew,* y-wis, *

the templ

, lo! that

e didst thou

ft!" quoth

fain have

olk had in

ey were of

and their thews

s great fame

e naught) fo

lk have fo

may not ha

will I n

fame's hire,* *th

e set I a

los be blo

u ever blithe."

uoth she; "

what these fo

ear full wel

l trumpen

s blacke tr

puffen an

s at the w

gan *aboute

t stood rig

dly* to me spake, *

Friend, what

me hither t

he,* friend!" q

er, *grand mercy

h cause, b

me, as I

ht have my

lf best ho

e,* or what I

self it a

for the m

h as I know

hou here, the

hat will I

why I st

idings for to

hing, I kno

ither thi

r suche th

inly, he t

hither,

bothe he

ace wondro

be not s

of." "No?

wered, "N

I wot e

t first I

folk have

, and los

inly I kn

at Fame dwel

f her des

o her c

r doom,* *the princi

till I hi

lo! be the

nowe hit

st heard?" q

rce,* for well

desirest f

and stand no

ee, withoute

ther pla

shalt hear

forth with

castle, s

I stand i

e castle

that domu

inthus <81

wondrously,

intly* was y-wr

e, as swift

house aboute

t *stille stent;

t came so g

stooden up

have heard

e sickerly.* *co

oise whic

world righ

ing* of the ston

e engine<83>

use of which I

wigges sallow

ke, and som

e cages twight,* *

of these

es or dossers;

gh* and for the tw

l so full of gigs

eke of chirkin

ny other

s house had

leaves be

hen that th

roof men ma

holes, an

e soundes

n ev'ry tide*

e doores

ach one unshet

ere is none t

tidings

est is in

ill'd full of t

d, or of w

ll the hou

and of jangles,* *whis

f peace, o

of labour,

of death

hate, accord

lore, and

f sickness,

eather and

olkes and of b

s transm

es and o

dread,* of je

f cunning

and of gr

and of ruin; *cheapne

r of mis-

nd diverse

house of wh

t was not lite;*

sixty mil

mber of no stre

founded

to Adventure,* *wh

e mother o

ea of wells

shapen li

h I, "in all m

such a hou

wonder'd

house, the

ine eagle,

d high upo

straighte

thus; "I

while abide*

s love, an

rs in this

* I may lear** *p

ereon, or so

ere that I went." *

hat is mi

; "therefore I

, one thing

bringe thee t

ever *can be

to it, out

whirleth,

hat Jovis,

said, will

these ilke*

th sightes

way thy h

he of thy dist

f'rest debona

st thysel

e of all

Fortune hat

f all thy h

point to brest;* *on

ough his mi

ase, all be it

xpress com

h I am

thee with a

teache thee

ay'st moste

anon many

his word h

wixt his tone,*

indow in m

house was,

me thought it

ng it abo

in the fl

a congr

as I saw

in and so

or shall be eft,*

n the world n'

formed b

so many a

thes* in that

ote breadt

wight that

ch in other's

tiding

told al

nd saide, "Kn

* lo! righte n

h he; "tel

told him t

ereto, that

said," and "

't be," and "T

found, that dar

he folk th

unning to desc

s that I h

, and what

wonder mos

d heard a t

aight to an

im tellen

le that to

long way wa

hat for to ec

iding in

it ever

soon depart

im, than

hird; and

d him als'; *withou

idings tru

he tell it

re with mo

.* Thus north an

iding from m

increasin

quick and go* *becom

ark y-spr

a city bu

t it was ful

e on ev'ry ton

it was, it

indow out

mighte th

at some crevass

th faste fo

es saw I th

d sooth saw,* *a fal

nture* draw true

window fo

ey metten i

checked bo

of them mi

n *to crowd,* *push,

f them gan

irst!" - "Na

I will en

, if thou

ll never f

e owen swor

le* each with

, be he ne'

one of us t

de his leave,* *d

t morning

till y-rowned."*

and sooth, compou

fly for o

s gan to wring*

ng straigh

give to ea

er disp

them eke

wax and

he faire

m go. There

ders full

and in a rou

s them b

this House

hipmen and pi

of leasings,* *wallets

ith tidings*

lone by t

housand ti

f these par

and eke

crammed full

was with lyes

rfaste* went *

did all m

or to lear,* *to amus

tiding f

heard of so

ot now be to

need is,

ing it bet

out, or late

es in the lat

greate n

ner of t

of love ti

thitherw

running

that they h

cried, "What

id, "I know

ey were all

hinde ga

each other fas

noise on hi

fast on ot

, as men do

e last I

I not des

he seemed

great a

th I anon a

sleepe, ha

well what

gh and far

; and had g

mighty god

know; and g

have me h

o study and

to do da

n dreaming

s little b

th the Bo

The Hou

hich Christ was crucifi

s set much worth upon this thing - that is, devote much

592, et seqq.; where the cave of Somnus is said to be "prope Cimmerios," ("near the Cimmerians") and "Sa

the vision of Croesu

ims and the peas is perhaps suggested by the line following - "to make

ctum" - the holy body, or re

The Knight's Tale, the Goddess is represe

ulcan, the hu

tin, "arare," Anglo-S

the soar" when he mounted, "on the sours" or "souse"

ts of love; and the description of his manner of life which follows is sufficie

oem was composed, points clearly to Chaucer's daily work as Comp

little abstinence" on his corporeal appearance is humorously described in the Prologue to the Tale

15 to the Reeve's Tale. Precisely the same idea is conveyed

e 21 to the Prologue t

me down to us. It has been reasonably supposed, however, that Chaucer means by "his own book" Ovid's "Metamorph

les is said to be "Saint Julian in his country," for his open house and liberal cheer. The eagle, at

red to Apollo. See note 11

h, "roche

Thomas a Beckett, whose

rock which was towards the p

t; German, "ko

of stories; reciters of

hrist, lived at the court of Periander, tyrant of Corinth. The story of his preservation

ollo and Artemis. He became in turn the instructor of Peleus, Achilles, and other descendants of Aeacus;

he subject of a bal

where we ar

was a king

rper he

in the kin

and cand

nemuse." Shawmies: shalms or psalter

with the "dulcimer;" the idea of sweet - French, "d

n. "Citherus" has been retained in the text; it may have been employed as an appellative of Apollo, derived from "cithara," the instrument on which he played; and it is not easy to suggest a better substitute for it than "Clonas" - - an early Greek poet and musician who flouris

elf most exquisite music, challenged Apollo to a contest, the victor in which was to

s largely accomplished through the influence of the works of Luther and the other Reformers. Even now, the flute is the favourite mus

ance, or song to be ac

trumpet; Anglo

umpeter of Aeneas, was drowned near the Campanian headland

22), where we are told that he "blew a trumpet," which all the people of Israel

nt part in the tenth book of Statius' "Thebaid." Both he and Joa

jugglers; Fren

rs. For explanation of this word,

e possessed with a spirit of divination or prophecy. The barbarous Latin form

l spirits by burning incense; the practice of smoking cat

lpractices of witches, who tortured little images of wax, in the design of causing the same torment

to youth Aeson, the father of Jason; and caused the death of Jason's wif

irce, who changed the compa

e goddess promised the hero immortality if he remained with her; but he

The god Hermes of the Greeks (Mercurius of the Romans) had the surname "Cyllenius," from the mountain where he was born - Mount Cyllene, in Arcadia; and the alteration into "Ballenu

have been famous sorcerers or juggler

whom we read in Ac

de well mor

ev'rythi

thing of F

ature of fame to ex

llars in a Gothic building; they were often

vants at a tournament acknowledged the gifts or large

coins; not "luxemburgs", but stamped and authorised money. See note

or "tabard," on which the arms of t

f Venise" i.e. In whatever way it might be proved or

a treatise on p

r elevated portion of the hall at the upper en

eat Bear or Northern Wain, which in this c

e New Testament, also called Revelation

h "ondoye," from "ondoye

' wings: denot

the poisoned shirt of Nessus, se

istory of the Jewish wars narrated many horrors, cruelties, and sufferings,

ount of the "bodies

's Ye

and Luna sil

rcury quicksi

ad, and Jup

pper, by my

s believed to have been a native of Tolosa, now Toulouse. He wrote the "Theb

s attached to histories of the Trojan War pretended t

cer professes to follow in his "Troilus and Cres

sina, who lived about the end of the thirteenth century, a

drew from Troy the original of the British race

in ten books, recounted the incident

poets," lived some three centuries after Christ, and among

d usually as blowing a trumpet made of a conch or shell; he

nglo-Saxon, "scua

See note 5 to Chaucer

lack; German

tuyau." In the Prologue to The Canterbury Tales, the Mo

emishes, spots;

lle Isaude see note 21

. See note 6 to

n his head, is to befool him; see the

of the Moon, the Egyptian Isis corresponded), at Ephesus. The building, famous for its spl

thou ever blithe." i.e. Cause our renown to be blo

cted by Dedalus for the safe keeping of the Mi

, an affluent of t

he purpose of great artillery; they were called "mangonells," "springolds," &c.

than the space of time during which one might walk a

o seem to have in Chaucer's time amply warranted th

Prologue to The Canterbury Tales, has

he poet need not tell what tidings he wanted to hear, since everything of the kind must some d

ar heaping-up of peo

the procession of L

o iv.), where, as th

co

people, throng

other, upon

AND CR

- loving what it can have, when that which it would rather have is for the time unattainable. His Pandarus is a gentleman, though a gentleman with a flaw in him; a man who, in his courtier-like good-nature, places the claims of comradeship above those of honour, and plots away the virtue of his niece, that he may appease the love-sorrow of his friend; all the time conscious that he is not acting as a gentleman should, and desirous that others should give him that justification which he can get but feebly and diffidently in himself. In fact, the "Troilus and Cressida" of Chaucer is the "Troilus and Cressida" of Shakespeare transfigured; the atmosphere, the colour, the spirit, are wholly different; the older poet presents us in the chief characters to noble natures, the younger to ignoble natures in all the characters; and the poem with which we have now to do stands at this day among the noblest expositions of love's workings in the human heart and life. It is divided into five books, containing altogether 8246 lines. The First Book (1092 lines) tells how Calchas, priest of Apollo, quitting beleaguered Troy, left there his only daughter Cressida; how Troilus, the youngest brother of Hector and son of King Priam, fell in love with her at first sight, at a festival in the temple of Pallas, and sorrowed bitterly for her love; and how his friend, Cressida's uncle, Pandarus, comforted him by the promise of aid in his suit. The Second Book (1757 lines) relates the subtle manoeuvres of Pandarus to induce Cressida to return the love of Troilus; which he accomplishes mainly by touching at once the lady's admiration for his heroism, and her pity for his love-sorrow on her account. The Third Book (1827 lines) opens with an account of the first interview between the lovers; ere it closes, the skilful stratagems of Pandarus have placed the pair in each other's arms under his roof, and the lovers are happy in perfect enjoyment of each other's love and trust. In the Fourth Book (1701 lines) the course of true love ceases to run smooth; Cressida is compelled to quit

IRST

rrow <1> of T

King Priamus'

his adventures

and after* out o

ere I you par

> thou help

ords, that wee

l, thou godde

t, that sorrowe

t am the sor

rs, as I can, to

,* the soothe fo

ight a dreary f

ale a sorry chee

od of Love's

mine unlikeliness,*

though I shoulde ste

from his hel

s, might I d

or any love av

hank, and mine

s that bathe

p of pity

for old pas

love, and

uffer; think

ove durste y

ave won it wi

them that bee

as ye may

in heaven to solace

ray also, th

ght to show, i

woe as Love's

eely adventure*

them that eke

t never will

that falsely be a

d tongues, be

od, for his be

out of this world

ired of their

for them th

God them grant

ight their love

orship and pleasance;

I my soul be

hem that Love

ir woe, and l

have of the

ere their owe

with good enten

w go straight

hall the doub

in loving

he forsook him

tly to the Greek camp, where he was gladly received, and honoured for his skill in divining, of which the besiegers hoped to make use. Within the city there was great anger at the tre

this lady's

in alle Troy city

none, for ov

was her nat

thing immort

erfect heav'

'd sent in sco

well in Troy. The siege went on; but they of Troy did not neglect the honour and worship of their deities; most of all of "the relic hight Palladion, <4> that was their trust aboven ev'ry one." In April, "when clothe

hich was th

abit black;

firste lett

so stood she mak

ng gladded all t

to be praised derre,*

cloud so bright

as they said

en in her black

od, full low an

lk, *in little bred

*under shame's drede

g, debonair* of

e* looking and

as he was w

ightes, led t

e temple upo

the ladies

w there, for

*reave him* his res

lacke whom him lest;*

he pl

l fast he gan to wa

r squier of

h, or let his

an that he

smile, and h

s: "Ah, Lord, s

ee, when as th

told, pardie,

lewed* observance,

abour folk h

it keeping with

is lost, woe and

les! may ye

you aware

lus for that despite, and, showing that his

mple went he

, with ev'ry

and now on

wn, or *of without;* *

, that through the ro

ced, and so

t smote, and there

'd wonder sore a

* behold in bus

thought he; "where h

and goodly to d

eart began to s

ghed, lest men

former *playing cheer

he least of her sta

limbes so we

manhood, t

esse mannis

wise of her moving

hat men might in h

* and womanly n

right wonde

moving and her c

ous* was, for she l

ttle aside, i

y I not stande here

oking gan she light,*

him see so good a s

k in him there

ire, and str

arte's bottom

ix'd and dee

ad pored** up and dow

lad his horne

e how to look or

held himself

that Love's paine

e that love ha

streames* of her

he thought h

look, the spiri

e, that thus c

black, lookin

ngs he stood

, nor wherefor

,* nor worde told; *sho

nner for to hold,* *to

s sometimes hi

hile that the service

not fully all aw

emple all ea

hat ever he had

lk, lest ful

on himself; bu

wist on any

an dissemble

er busy needs." Then, alone in his chamber, he begins to groan and sigh, and call up again Cressida's form as he saw her in the temple - "making a mirror of his mind

pose Love's craf

at he would wo

s desire all *in mew

ight y-born,

cover'd be thereby;* *

love *too wide y-blo

uit, although sw

this, muche

speak, and wha

her to love, he sou

ng anon rig

his sorrow for t

pe he gan thus t

to love, an

of Troi

is, O God! w

, what thing a

d, from whence

k', a wonder

y torment a

to me savoury think:*

irst the more

owen luste bren* *b

meth my wailin

to plain I* then? *to wh

unweary, that

O sweete harm so

ee in me su

I consent th

I consent,

s: thus pushe

ess within

ea, betwixte

trary stand

wonder is t

ld, for cold o

n might not know he was consumed with love. Meantime, Cressida gave no sign that she heeded his devotion, or even knew of it; and he was now consumed with a new fear - lest she loved some other man. Bewailing his sad lot - ensnared, exposed to the scorn of those whose love he had ridiculed, wishing himself arrived at the port of death, and praying ever that his lady might glad him with some kind look - Troilus is surprised in his chamber by his friend Pandarus, the uncle of Cressida. Pandarus, seeking to divert his sorrow by making him angry, jeeringly

hearken to me,"

e;* it happens o

doth full evil fare,

can keep his f

elfe seen a

ll that looke

ke a wise ma

is no carvi

keth sharpe c

that I have aught mis

uch thing to thee schoo

ise men to be

, thy wit is

ry is everyth

he contrast* Troilus, however, still begs his friend to leave him to mourn in peace, for all his proverbs can avail nothing. But Pandarus insists on plying the lover with wise saws, arguments, reproaches; hints that, if he should die of love, his lady may impute his death to fear of the Greeks; and finally induces Troilus to admit that

, that bears the we

wholesome herb

ule nettle, ro

white, and smoot

valley is t

arke night is

xt the fine* of so

eve Love's enemies. Troilus gives utterance to a hint of fear; but he is silenced by Pandarus with another proverb - "Thou hast full great care, lest that the carl should fall out of the moon." Then the lovesick you

ECOND

e tempestuous matter of despair, that Troilus was in; but now of hope the kalendes begin." He invokes the aid of Clio; excuses himself to every lover for what may be found amiss in a book w

wighte that

path, nor alw

nds were all t

ar'd in love

open dealing

rm, or saying thei

y: Each country

be there in th

or said *like in all;"*

der - but it actually was done, or it shall yet be done.

ther is of mont

reshe flowers,

, that winter d

alm is floati

oth his bright

ite Bull, so it

, on Maye's day

, for all his

part of Love'

ne'er so well

hue all day fu

m fell that day a teen

hich full woe

e day full many a w

gne, <13> with

gan make her waime

* was; and ever

d, half in a

igh him made

an forth her

noise of her

and dress* him

him his erra

and eke his

*good plight* was the

and took his

ce's palace

d of entry, t

are, to lay aside the book, to rise up and dance, "and let us do to May some observance." Cressida cries out, "God forbid!" and asks if he is mad - if that is a widow's life, whom it better becomes to sit in a cave and read of holy saints' lives. Pandarus intimates that he could tell her something which could make her merry; but he refuses to gratify her curiosity; and, by

sooth, y-wis,"

, who so had

wonder'd up

o thick a swarm

d of Greekes f

field, in ev'r

cry but 'Troi

there, he hunte

Greekes' blo

rt, now him a

went it was

ath, and shield

there durst him

eld his bloody

ecause of the glad fortune that has befallen her. More curious than ever, she seeks to find out Pandarus' secret; but he still parries her curiosity, skilfully hinting all the time at her good fortune, and the wisdom of seizing on it when of

re gemme virtueless!

o that *doth no boot!*

uty that is ruthe

ight that treads

eauty *crop and roo

in you there be

arm ye live,

visits from him, that his life may be saved; urging that, although a man be soon going to the temple,

h that heard h

feele* what he m

he, "what would ye

at I should do of thi

id," quoth he;"

love again f

skilful guerdoning.*

elde* wasteth

ou a part of

ere that age

d, there will no

b a lore* unto

ware," quoth be

ger* at the last.' *ol

morning *I keep then wishe you no more sorrow.'"* *I care to wish you nothing worse* Weeping, Cressida reproaches her uncle for giving her such counsel; whereupon Pandarus, starting up, threatens to kill himself, and would fain depart, but that his niece detains him, and,

ok his leave, a

he glad and wel

no longer would

into her cham

own, as still

rd gan up an

aid, as it ca

eal astonish'd

newe case; but

n she found right naugh

y she should

ay love, of

is heart may to-br

, *but if her lest.* *

t alone, and

se a skirmis

ed in the s

w put to flight the G

meinie* for to shout:

e, cast up th

s street he mus

ay is from t

> where open is

e he, and all

ng, in *routes tw

ay* was, sooth to say

n say may no

tiden* of nec

s sat upon

ve his head,

s his horse, a

rode a pace

ightly sighte

m, was not,

rs, that god

n of armes,

full fill'd o

had a body

, as well as har

im in his gear*

ng, so wieldy* s

en on him for

s to-hewn in

e* hung his bac

ashed was with

might many

h horn, and nerve, an

le cried, "Here

rother, <22> ho

ax'd a little

ard the peopl

old it was

he cast ad

gan all his

her heart so

he said, "Who giv

n thought she

r right thus:

uncle swears h

have mercy and

thought for

d to pull, and

ll the people

* and rollen up

ought his exc

te, and also

hape, and eke

favour was, f

er, and thoug

e, if that he m

. . .

gan she in h

re, of which

best were, an

e full oft in m

earte warm, n

ught of, somewha

uthor listet

first, that T

ght, and eke h

l were it not to do'

, yet for the wor

ay* and with gladness,

ith such a l

also for his heal.**

t* my kinge's

hath to see me

utterly his

ht have me in des

mighte stand in

e hate to purchase

ere I may stand i

ot, there lies meas

man forbidd

ids that ev

s for alway,

know for me i

for that thin

o he meaneth

se, that hard

e* that he love

ur were it u

hat? Why, nay, pardi

and alway h

men all thi

rse? Why, nay,

love a wond

I myself, so

man wist of this thoug

fairest, witho

ste, who so

y in all the

s, though he

wen woman, w

od, as after

nd untied in *lusty

sy, or such deb

sband say to

hey be full

ul, or lov

? to what fine*

ve, in case if

! I am not r

at I mine hea

y mine honour

I may do to

hen the sunne

changeth ofte

ud is put with

eads the sun

gan through her h

d her brighte

ear almost sh

ty and security, the stormy life, and the

at her thought

He that noth

him *loth or dear."* *

er thought her

hope, and afte

d; but thus betw

wente forth to play.**

ir anon right

n, with her

y made many a went,

d she, Tark

at it joy wa

r women, a grea

in the gard

large, and rai

ll with blossom

ew, and sande

walked arm an

Antigone the shee

ojan lay to

ven was her v

n the impression made on the mind of Cressida by the brave aspect of Troilus, and by her own

worse of his *kind

man, for feebl

to see on it

se, tho' wretch

may no sorrow drien;**

ath a head of verre,**

ones ware him i

ll my heart an

'd, will love

t, and all my

heart y-grow

e, that it s

to love him begin,

l there is no

an fair endite; Antigone replies confidently in the affirmative; and Cressida answers nothi

nour, and the

e, - all this c

downward for to wry,*

d his daye's

hinges gan

ight, and sta

r folk went home in

liked her to

that voiden ought, *g

to sleepe well h

n unto her be

t, then lay she

hings the mann

eedeth not, f

le upon a c

mber wall whe

ng against th

is birde's wise,

made her heart

e so long in good

the deade sleep h

non right then *her

gle, feather'd

east his lon

eart he rent,

t into her breast

was *abash'd nor sme

ew, with hearte

ite a letter to his mistress, telling her how he "fares amiss," and "beseeching her of ruth;" he will bear the letter to his niece; and, if Troilus will ride past Cressida's house, he will find his mistress and h

letter, thou a

ignely endite* *wilt n

th these argu

like, nor craf

thy tears also

rite a goodly

ood, rehearse

beste harper *

best y-soun

, with all hi

r *ay one warble harp,

es pointed ne

ev'ry wight to du

ee, and of his

iscordant thing y-fer

use termes

rmes hold of

*do that it be like;

nter woulde

t, and head it

o were it but a jape

fore, "to goode hope now hath she caught a thorn, she shall not pull it out this nexte week." Pandarus, striking the iron when it is hot, asks his niece to grant Troilus an interview; but she strenuously declines, for fear of scandal, and because it is all too soon to allow him so great a liberty - her purpose being to love him unknown of all, "and guerdon [reward] him with nothing but with sight." Pandarus has other intentions; and, while Troilus writes daily letters with increasing love, he contrives the means of an interview. Seeking out Deiphobus, the brother of Troilus, he tells him that Cressida is in danger of violence from Polyphete, and asks protection for her. Deiphobus gladly complies, promises the protection of Hector and Helen, and goes to invite Cressida to dinner on the morrow. Meantime Pandarus instructs Troilus to go to the house of Deiphobus, plead an access of his fever for remaining all night, and keep his chamber next day. "Lo," says the crafty promoter of love, borrowing a phrase from the hunting-field; "Lo, hold thee at thy tristre [tryst <33>] close, and I shall well the deer unto thy bowe drive." Unsuspiciou

HIRD

a beautiful invocation of Venu

ht, of which t

the thirde

e, O Jove's d

goodly debonair,* *

eady to repair!** *al

eal** and of gladn

might and thy g

hell, in earth

ght, if that I

ast, fish, herb,

imes, with vap

to love he wil

world no liv

is worth, or m

t to those e

that thinges a

and him amo

and as ye list,

e, ease* or adve

usand formes

*whom ye list he hent

sh

ars appease

ye make heartes

t ye will set afi

hame, and vic

ous to be, and be

fter* a wight inte

he hath your mi

alm and hou

use of friendshi

e *cover'd qualit

ich that folk

not construe

im, or why h

t that, comes to the

the worse, the poet prays to be taught to describe some of the joy that is felt in her se

is meane w

esson in this ma

, "thus will I say, an

* unto my lady de

od; and this sh

not forgette

worken as he

is heart began to

nd *short for to sike

hat led her by

an in at the cur

boot* alle sick!

ere you comi

*your death to wite!"* *

seemed as h

elp!" quoth Tr

, O mighty God, th

? for I see

resside, "it i

heart? alas,

do you honour

upward, and she

handes soft

love of God,

she; "ey! what

to you for cau

hank, and of y

de you beseek."** *

, that heard

, wax'd neither

word for shame

shoulde smite

w he wax'd su

that he *ween'd have

s through his wi

this espied

, - and lov'd hi

malapert, n

d to sing a fo

shame began so

as I may my

ell, as teac

ce, right for

e quak'd, and

and now his hue i

o Cresside, h

nd humble *yielden ch

d that him astert,* *

ercy, mercy,

d when he might *out b

s: "God wote

I have conning,* *

all, God so

at I, woeful wight

are not, canno

ffer not th

s now, O wom

and if it you dis

ak* upon mine ow

row, and do you

th your heart

t ye have hear

er how soon th

s manly sorr

made a heart o

pt as he to wa

one* be heartes tru

s niece ever new

ake *of him an end,*

h at ones, ere

th she; "by God

hat ye would

he; "that ye have

e, and do him n

s," quoth she,

ne of his intent;*

r well what that

meane, sweete

"O goodly, fr

es* of your eyne so c

n me rue and see,* *ta

that I may be he,

nch of vice,

ay to do you

y chief, and

wit and all

e, right as yo

qual to mine offenc

*I breake your def

ne me so much ho

nden aught

your very h

in my pain

e desire, f

and be alik

heart, all wh

how sore that me

I, mine owen

. . .

her eyen on him* c

full debonairl

hied* not too fast,

word, but sai

safe, I wil

form as ye c

ully to my ser

m, for Godde's

our of truth

an, eke mean

th *wit and busines

if I may do

th, y-wis I w

ole, no longe

, this warn I y

on although

more have

than right in

forbear, if

hile that ye me serve,

ght after ye deserv

eare heart, and

awe you to lust

truely, with

turnen all t

that may do

ye shall rec

mes took, and

house, he parts the lovers, and attends Cressida while she takes leave of the household - Troilus all the time groaning at the deceit practised on his brother and Helen. When he has got rid of them by feig

gh me thou sta

; I say it f

u why? For, sha

e I begun a

hall do eft* for oth

re a thousand

say, for the

arnest, such a mean

men unto m

hyselfe what t

niece, of vices c

entleness* to trust

ight *as thyselfe l

ot,* take I to witnes

r covetise* I wrou

bridge* thy d

nigh thou dieds

other, do now

ve, and keep h

wise, so save

know'st, the n

le, as who sai

s unborn, I da

ist* that she d

that I, that

hat she is m

raitor eke y-fere.**

I, through mine engin

ce put this f

and wholly to b

people woul

t I the wors

case, that e

and thou right nau

f secrecy, and impresses on his mind the mischiefs that flow from vaunting in aff

er and a lia

a woman granteth

aith that other

orn to hold

I go tell it

a vaunter, a

for I break my h

en, if they b

k; what shall I

unt of women,

ght* them this nor

more than mine old

God me sende he

dreade with u

is for no mis

n, but for fooles

rm that in the

folly oft as

, that in wise

ds, if she be

les' harm chastised."*

assures him that he shall have all that he will in the love of Cressida: "tho

lle half the

e soul of Tro

ffect of Pan

made his hearte s

joy to wasten

eating <46> of

, he felt of

*holtes and these haye

winter deade

in greene, wh

teth* best to play; *

selfe wise,

ly his heart

was there nev

e reveal what Pandarus asks him to keep secret; offering to die a thousand times, if n

all my heart,

e thou deeme* s

; me thoughte,

ou me dost for com

were a bawdery;*

if I lewed be;* *I

t wot I well, pard

oes for gold,

ll him *as thee lust

thou dost, cal

and fellowsh

o, for wide

re is divers

s like, as I ha

w I think it not n

shame be or a jape,

faire sist

e, or any of the

so fair, or

ch thou wilt

ine, and let m

e for Cressida, Troilus bade his friend good night. On the morrow Troilus burned as th

f with manhoo

each unbridled cheer

se that live,

st,* by word or by

ant, as touchin

ght as far as

ell dissimul

that I now devise*

ife: with all

s in Marte's

ay, in armes

moste part, t

ought how that

r thank* for to d

ear, although

he n'as somewhat d

turned on hi

im missed have been

se men be not

wot, no more

em* of possib

is, to purpo

as written is in g

sometimes, and a

n that she *durst and l

advice,* as was the

y* in this need, *mad

t, how far they

o short a wise, *so bri

nd in such fear, vigil

inen or devise* fo

speech, or to

hem not so lefe were,*

d them grace send a

heir speeches

le that they sp

took ay of all s

he wiste wha

d, so that i

ght to do, no

t that love, all* ca

had open'd h

was to her a wall of steel, and shield from ev'ry displeasance;" while Pandarus ever actively fanned the fire. So passed a "time sweet" of tranquil and harmonious love the only drawback being, that the

th great d

at hereto might av

and put in

for cost nor for

st, them should

be in aught

ossible were.* *he k

uld be disco

clear was in the

, and every

, for all this

bothe fremd* an

is all ready

t, but that we w

in which we c

shope him for to rain," [when the sky was preparing to rain] Pandarus went to invite his niece to supper; solemnly assuring her that Troilus was out of the town - though all the time he was safely shut up, till midnight, in "a little stew," whence through a

one with her

e, in Cancer jo

rain from heav'

anner woman

moky rain <54

arus laugh'd,

ime a lady to

iate apartment. When all is quiet, Pandarus liberates Troilus, and by a secret passage brings him to the chamber of Cressida; then, going forward alone to his niece, after calming her fears of discovery, he tells her that her lover has "through a gutter, by a privy went," [a secret passage] come to his house in all this rain, mad with grief because a friend has

full soon on

right by her

e wise his lady

she wax'd su

on how that sh

t one word ar

for his su

h, yet sought to remove his jealousy, and offered to submit to any ordeal or oath he might

od, to quenchen

t he shall, f

, of a full mis

t a merry s

inter comet

y, and eke men

oures* be victories.

spered in his ear the assurance that she was not wroth; and at last, under her caresses, he recovered consciousness, to find her arm laid over him, to hear the assurance of her forgiveness, and receive her frequent kisses. Fresh vows and explanations passed; and Cressida implored

h that felt he

rkes in thei

aspen leaf b

felt her in h

of cares cold,* *cured

the blissful g

aines bringe

her gan in

et, as ever may

ht, now here i

for other boot*

side answere

now, my swee

, I were now not her

aid, that he

or other gre

ink, as we m

ink; and for t

ten pain and g

re, as for t

ain hath founde

esse seemeth f

assayed* was bef

blisse now they fl

felte since tha

r than both two

God, take ev

s, if it com

t from ev'ry drea

uste cause ha

ast,<59> it joy

nd *intent cleane wi

e, with many a twi

is the sweet woodbind,

armes other wind.*

ed* nightingale, *new

irst when she beg

ny *herde's tale,* *the

dges any wig

out her voice doth

hen *her dreade sten

, and told him h

at sees his death

ht that he may guess,*

doth him escapen,* *he

is brought *in sick

rld, in such p

and had his

ap God let u

, her straighte

e, fleshly, sm

nd good thrift* bad

roat, her breastes r

heaven he gan

l a thousand t

joy *unneth he wis

lted love, and rings; Cressida gave to Troilus a brooch of gold and azur

cock, commune a

ast to beat, a

, the daye'

e, and out his

se, to him that

, <61> then a

ore, to Troil

fe, my trust, a

orn, alas! t

us must make

s to rise, an

m but lost

y n'ilt thou o'er

en Alcmena la

ht! as folk i

y God, this world

s, with thy dar

t men might

astes plain, a

h labour would us bre

'st, and deignest* no

! so shortly thi

that God, maker o

aste and thine

to our hemi

er the ground thou

rakel hieing* ou

* thus hastily

that with thes

then, for pit

ares from his

never yet s

out of so gr

al Cresside,

n, and said in

ay! accuse

have stol'n, and *fa

y coming into

ath one of thy bri

Why list th

ost? Why seekest

ight so quenche

lovers thee aguilt?* *o

ne be the pains of h

er hast thou s

will nowhere

thou thy light

t smalle seales gra

ot, us needs n

unne, Titan,

ol! well may me

wning <63> all n

her so soon up

us lovers in t

, both thou, and ek

give you bothe

s of unswerving and undying love; Cressida respo

hoebus* falle from

eagle be th

ck out of hi

out of Cress

ace later in the day, he warns him not

rtune's sha

ind of infor

ve been in

ber when it

gh; forthy,*" do n

hough thou sitte war

, certain it w

se, and hold th

sure as red

t is to keep we

thy speech an

oy holds not

ell, it breaks

is to worke

re, and of their bitter chidings of the Day. The effects of love on Troilus are altogether

d Song of

Earth and Sea h

es* hath in Heaven

h a right whol

ned, as him list

nitteth law

oth in virtue

d, that I have

, with faith whi

undes according;* *acc

that be discorda

nd perpetua

ay his rosy da

n hath lordship

e, ay heried* be

which that gree

to a certain

at so fiercely

rth and all for

ove aught let

loves asunder

t Love holds now *to

d, that autho

bond Love of h

artes, and al

ond no wight th

them would I that

and that him list

, and keep them

e had higher fru

for the towne

irst in armes dight,

y, but if th

t y-dread* of an

e of hardiness*

ve, his lady's

d his spiri

ce, a-hawking

t the boare,

astes let he

came riding

lady, from he

on coming out of

him goodly to

ve and virtue

ad all wretchedness*

d was him to beseech

em that hadd

m that weren

he, if any wi

s, when he it

e power of Love work within him, that he was ay [always] humble and benign,

OURTH

reeks. A truce was proclaimed for the exchange of prisoners; and as soon as Calchas heard the news, he came to the assembly of the Greeks, to "bid a boon." Having gained audience, he reminded the besiegers how he had come from Troy to aid and encourage them in their enterprise; willing to lose all that he had in the city, except his daughter Cressida, whom he bitterly reproach

was present

as for Anten

change soon b

h the wordes w

he no word to

ould his af

t he gan his sorr

anguish and o

her lords wou

ulde grant, -

, then thought he

save her honou

th'exchange o

hen how all th

est to do her bide,* *

e than that s

id him, on th

sent of her, d

worke she wou

hy meddling is y-blow*

it was *erst unknow."

gan deliberat

e lordes would

m grant what *them l

dy first what t

she had told

he worken all so

world against i

hat full well t

w they would h

and, and sobe

s no prisone

n you who thi

rt, ye may wel

omen for to sell.

e people then u

of straw y-set on f