Canterbury Tales and Other Poems by Geoffrey Chaucer (always you kirsty moseley .txt) 📖

Though that he bade no dreames for to dread, By God, men may in olde bookes read

Of many a man more of authority

Than ever Cato was, so may I the, thrive That all the reverse say of his sentence, opinion And have well founden by experience

That dreames be significations

As well of joy, as tribulations

That folk enduren in this life present.

There needeth make of this no argument; The very preve* sheweth it indeed. *trial, experience One of the greatest authors that men read <13>

Saith thus, that whilom two fellowes went On pilgrimage in a full good intent;

And happen’d so, they came into a town Where there was such a congregatioun

Of people, and eke so *strait of herbergage, without lodging*

That they found not as much as one cottage In which they bothe might y-lodged be: Wherefore they musten of necessity,

As for that night, departe company;

And each of them went to his hostelry, inn And took his lodging as it woulde fall.

The one of them was lodged in a stall, Far in a yard, with oxen of the plough; That other man was lodged well enow,

As was his aventure, or his fortune,

That us governeth all, as in commune.

And so befell, that, long ere it were day, This man mette* in his bed, there: as he lay, *dreamed How that his fellow gan upon him call, And said, ‘Alas! for in an ox’s stall

This night shall I be murder’d, where I lie Now help me, deare brother, or I die;

In alle haste come to me,’ he said.

This man out of his sleep for fear abraid; started But when that he was wak’d out of his sleep, He turned him, and *took of this no keep; paid this no attention*

He thought his dream was but a vanity.

Thus twies* in his sleeping dreamed he, *twice And at the thirde time yet his fellaw again Came, as he thought, and said, ‘I am now slaw; slain Behold my bloody woundes, deep and wide.

Arise up early, in the morning, tide,

And at the west gate of the town,’ quoth he, ‘A carte full of dung there shalt: thou see, In which my body is hid privily.

Do thilke cart arroste* boldely. *stop My gold caused my murder, sooth to sayn.’

And told him every point how he was slain, With a full piteous face, and pale of hue.

 

“And, truste well, his dream he found full true; For on the morrow, as soon as it was day, To his fellowes inn he took his way;

And when that he came to this ox’s stall, After his fellow he began to call.

The hostelere answered him anon,

And saide, ‘Sir, your fellow is y-gone, As soon as day he went out of the town.’

This man gan fallen in suspicioun,

Rememb’ring on his dreames that he mette, dreamed And forth he went, no longer would he let, delay Unto the west gate of the town, and fand found A dung cart, as it went for to dung land, That was arrayed in the same wise

As ye have heard the deade man devise; describe And with an hardy heart he gan to cry, ‘Vengeance and justice of this felony: My fellow murder’d in this same night

And in this cart he lies, gaping upright.

I cry out on the ministers,’ quoth he.

‘That shoulde keep and rule this city; Harow! alas! here lies my fellow slain.’

What should I more unto this tale sayn?

The people out start, and cast the cart to ground And in the middle of the dung they found The deade man, that murder’d was all new.

O blissful God! that art so good and true, Lo, how that thou bewray’st murder alway.

Murder will out, that see we day by day.

Murder is so wlatsom* and abominable loathsome To God, that is so just and reasonable, That he will not suffer it heled be; *concealed <14>

Though it abide a year, or two, or three, Murder will out, this is my conclusioun, And right anon, the ministers of the town Have hent* the carter, and so sore him pined,* seized **tortured And eke the hostelere so sore engined, racked That they beknew* their wickedness anon, *confessed And were hanged by the necke bone.

 

“Here may ye see that dreames be to dread.

And certes in the same book I read,

Right in the nexte chapter after this

(I gabbe* not, so have I joy and bliss), *talk idly Two men that would, have passed over sea, For certain cause, into a far country, If that the wind not hadde been contrary, That made them in a city for to tarry, That stood full merry upon an haven side; But on a day, against the even-tide,

The wind gan change, and blew right *as them lest. as they wished*

Jolly and glad they wente to their rest, And caste* them full early for to sail. resolved But to the one man fell a great marvail That one of them, in sleeping as he lay, He mette a wondrous dream, against the day: *dreamed He thought a man stood by his bedde’s side, And him commanded that he should abide; And said him thus; ‘If thou to-morrow wend, Thou shalt be drown’d; my tale is at an end.’

He woke, and told his follow what he mette, And prayed him his voyage for to let; delay As for that day, he pray’d him to abide.

His fellow, that lay by his bedde’s side, Gan for to laugh, and scorned him full fast.

‘No dream,’ quoth he,‘may so my heart aghast, frighten That I will lette* for to do my things. delay I sette not a straw by thy dreamings,

For swevens* be but vanities and japes.* dreams **jokes,deceits Men dream all day of owles and of apes, And eke of many a maze* therewithal; *wild imagining Men dream of thing that never was, nor shall.

But since I see, that thou wilt here abide, And thus forslothe* wilfully thy tide,* idle away **time God wot, it rueth me; and have good day.’ I am sorry for it

And thus he took his leave, and went his way.

But, ere that he had half his course sail’d, I know not why, nor what mischance it ail’d, But casually* the ship’s bottom rent, *by accident And ship and man under the water went, In sight of other shippes there beside That with him sailed at the same tide.

 

“And therefore, faire Partelote so dear, By such examples olde may’st thou lear, learn That no man shoulde be too reckeless

Of dreames, for I say thee doubteless, That many a dream full sore is for to dread.

Lo, in the life of Saint Kenelm <15> I read, That was Kenulphus’ son, the noble king Of Mercenrike, <16> how Kenelm mette a thing.

A little ere he was murder’d on a day, His murder in his vision he say. saw His norice* him expounded every deal* nurse **part His sweven, and bade him to keep* him well guard For treason; but he was but seven years old, And therefore little tale hath he told he attached little Of any dream, so holy was his heart. significance to*

By God, I hadde lever than my shirt

That ye had read his legend, as have I.

Dame Partelote, I say you truely,

Macrobius, that wrote the vision

In Afric’ of the worthy Scipion, <17>

Affirmeth dreames, and saith that they be ‘Warnings of thinges that men after see.

And furthermore, I pray you looke well In the Old Testament, of Daniel,

If he held dreames any vanity.

Read eke of Joseph, and there shall ye see Whether dreams be sometimes (I say not all) Warnings of thinges that shall after fall.

Look of Egypt the king, Dan Pharaoh,

His baker and his buteler also,

Whether they felte none effect* in dreams. *significance Whoso will seek the acts of sundry remes realms May read of dreames many a wondrous thing.

Lo Croesus, which that was of Lydia king, Mette he not that he sat upon a tree,

Which signified he shoulde hanged be? <18>

Lo here, Andromache, Hectore’s wife, <19>

That day that Hector shoulde lose his life, She dreamed on the same night beforn,

How that the life of Hector should be lorn, lost If thilke day he went into battaile;

She warned him, but it might not avail; He wente forth to fighte natheless,

And was y-slain anon of Achilles.

But thilke tale is all too long to tell; And eke it is nigh day, I may not dwell.

Shortly I say, as for conclusion,

That I shall have of this avision

Adversity; and I say furthermore,

That I ne *tell of laxatives no store, hold laxatives For they be venomous, I wot it well; of no value*

I them defy,* I love them never a del.* distrust **whit “But let us speak of mirth, and stint* all this; *cease Madame Partelote, so have I bliss,

Of one thing God hath sent me large* grace; liberal For when I see the beauty of your face, Ye be so scarlet-hued about your eyen, I maketh all my dreade for to dien,

For, all so sicker* as In principio,<20> *certain Mulier est hominis confusio.<21>

Madam, the sentence* of of this Latin is, *meaning Woman is manne’s joy and manne’s bliss.

For when I feel at night your softe side, —

Albeit that I may not on you ride,

For that our perch is made so narrow, Alas!

I am so full of joy and of solas, delight That I defy both sweven and eke dream.”

And with that word he flew down from the beam, For it was day, and eke his hennes all; And with a chuck he gan them for to call, For he had found a corn, lay in the yard.

Royal he was, he was no more afear’d;

He feather’d Partelote twenty time,

And as oft trode her, ere that it was prime.

He looked as it were a grim lion,

And on his toes he roamed up and down; He deigned not to set his feet to ground; He chucked, when he had a corn y-found, And to him ranne then his wives all.

Thus royal, as a prince is in his hall, Leave I this Chanticleer in his pasture; And after will I tell his aventure.

 

When that the month in which the world began, That highte March, when God first maked man, Was complete, and y-passed were also,

Since March ended, thirty days and two, Befell that Chanticleer in all his pride, His seven wives walking him beside,

Cast up his eyen to the brighte sun,

That in the sign of Taurus had y-run

Twenty degrees and one, and somewhat more; He knew by kind,* and by none other lore,* nature **learning That it was prime, and crew with blissful steven. voice “The sun,” he said, “is clomben up in heaven Twenty degrees and one, and more y-wis. assuredly Madame Partelote, my worlde’s bliss,

Hearken these blissful birdes how they sing, And see the freshe flowers how they spring; Full is mine heart of revel and solace.”

But suddenly him fell a sorrowful case; casualty For ever the latter end of joy is woe: God wot that worldly joy is soon y-go: And, if a rhetor* coulde fair indite, orator He in a chronicle might it safely write, As for a sov’reign notability a thing supremely notable*

Now every wise man, let him hearken me; This story is all as