Chapter D: Laing Purves (19)

“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 true, I undertake, As is the book of Launcelot du Lake, That women hold in full great reverence. Now will I turn again to my sentence.

A col-fox, <22> full of sly iniquity, That in the grove had wonned* yeares three, *dwelt By high imagination forecast, The same night thorough the hedges brast* *burst Into the yard, where Chanticleer the fair Was wont, and eke his wives, to repair; And in a bed of wortes* still he lay, *cabbages Till it was passed undern <23> of the day, Waiting his time on Chanticleer to fall: As gladly do these homicides all, That in awaite lie to murder men. O false murd’rer! Rouking* in thy den! *crouching, lurking O new Iscariot, new Ganilion! <24> O false dissimuler, O Greek Sinon,<25> That broughtest Troy all utterly to sorrow! O Chanticleer! accursed be the morrow That thou into thy yard flew from the beams;* *rafters Thou wert full well y-warned by thy dreams That thilke day was perilous to thee. But what that God forewot* must needes be, *foreknows After th’ opinion of certain clerkes. Witness on him that any perfect clerk is, That in school is great altercation In this matter, and great disputation, And hath been of an hundred thousand men. But I ne cannot *boult it to the bren,* *examine it thoroughly <26>* As can the holy doctor Augustine, Or Boece, or the bishop Bradwardine,<27> Whether that Godde’s worthy foreweeting* *foreknowledge *Straineth me needly* for to do a thing *forces me* (Needly call I simple necessity), Or elles if free choice be granted me To do that same thing, or do it not, Though God forewot* it ere that it was wrought; *knew in advance Or if *his weeting straineth never a deal,* *his knowing constrains But by necessity conditionel. not at all* I will not have to do of such mattere; My tale is of a cock, as ye may hear, That took his counsel of his wife, with sorrow, To walken in the yard upon the morrow That he had mette the dream, as I you told. Womane’s counsels be full often cold;* *mischievous, unwise Womane’s counsel brought us first to woe, And made Adam from Paradise to go, There as he was full merry and well at case. But, for I n’ot* to whom I might displease *know not If I counsel of women woulde blame, Pass over, for I said it in my game.* *jest Read authors, where they treat of such mattere And what they say of women ye may hear. These be the cocke’s wordes, and not mine; I can no harm of no woman divine.* *conjecture, imagine Fair in the sand, to bathe* her merrily, *bask Lies Partelote, and all her sisters by, Against the sun, and Chanticleer so free Sang merrier than the mermaid in the sea; For Physiologus saith sickerly,* *certainly How that they singe well and merrily. <28> And so befell that, as he cast his eye Among the wortes,* on a butterfly, *cabbages He was ware of this fox that lay full low. Nothing *ne list him thenne* for to crow, *he had no inclination* But cried anon “Cock! cock!” and up he start, As man that was affrayed in his heart. For naturally a beast desireth flee From his contrary,* if be may it see, *enemy Though he *ne’er erst* had soon it with his eye *never before* This Chanticleer, when he gan him espy, He would have fled, but that the fox anon Said, “Gentle Sir, alas! why will ye gon? Be ye afraid of me that am your friend? Now, certes, I were worse than any fiend, If I to you would harm or villainy. I am not come your counsel to espy. But truely the cause of my coming Was only for to hearken how ye sing; For truely ye have as merry a steven,* *voice As any angel hath that is in heaven; Therewith ye have of music more feeling, Than had Boece, or any that can sing. My lord your father (God his soule bless) And eke your mother of her gentleness, Have in mnine house been, to my great ease:* *satisfaction And certes, Sir, full fain would I you please. But, for men speak of singing, I will say, So may I brooke* well mine eyen tway, *enjoy, possess, or use Save you, I hearde never man so sing As did your father in the morrowning. Certes it was of heart all that he sung. And, for to make his voice the more strong, He would *so pain him,* that with both his eyen *make such an exertion* He muste wink, so loud he woulde cryen, And standen on his tiptoes therewithal, And stretche forth his necke long and small. And eke he was of such discretion, That there was no man, in no region, That him in song or wisdom mighte pass. I have well read in Dan Burnel the Ass, <29> Among his verse, how that there was a cock That, for* a prieste’s son gave him a knock *because Upon his leg, while he was young and nice,* *foolish He made him for to lose his benefice. But certain there is no comparison Betwixt the wisdom and discretion Of youre father, and his subtilty. Now singe, Sir, for sainte charity, Let see, can ye your father counterfeit?”

This Chanticleer his wings began to beat, As man that could not his treason espy, So was he ravish’d with his flattery. Alas! ye lordes, many a false flattour* *flatterer <30> Is in your court, and many a losengeour, * *deceiver <31> That please you well more, by my faith, Than he that soothfastness* unto you saith. *truth Read in Ecclesiast’ of flattery; Beware, ye lordes, of their treachery. This Chanticleer stood high upon his toes, Stretching his neck, and held his eyen close, And gan to crowe loude for the nonce And Dan Russel <32> the fox start up at once, And *by the gorge hente* Chanticleer, *seized by the throat* And on his back toward the wood him bare. For yet was there no man that him pursu’d. O destiny, that may’st not be eschew’d!* *escaped Alas, that Chanticleer flew from the beams! Alas, his wife raughte* nought of dreams! *regarded And on a Friday fell all this mischance. O Venus, that art goddess of pleasance, Since that thy servant was this Chanticleer And in thy service did all his powere, More for delight, than the world to multiply, Why wilt thou suffer him on thy day to die? O Gaufrid, deare master sovereign, <33> That, when thy worthy king Richard was slain With shot, complainedest his death so sore, Why n’had I now thy sentence and thy lore, The Friday for to chiden, as did ye? (For on a Friday, soothly, slain was he), Then would I shew you how that I could plain* *lament For Chanticleere’s dread, and for his pain.

Certes such cry nor lamentation Was ne’er of ladies made, when Ilion Was won, and Pyrrhus with his straighte sword, When he had hent* king Priam by the beard, *seized And slain him (as saith us Eneidos*),<34> *The Aeneid As maden all the hennes in the close,* *yard When they had seen of Chanticleer the sight. But sov’reignly* Dame Partelote shright,** *above all others Full louder than did Hasdrubale’s wife, **shrieked When that her husband hadde lost his life, And that the Romans had y-burnt Carthage; She was so full of torment and of rage, That wilfully into the fire she start, And burnt herselfe with a steadfast heart. O woeful hennes! right so cried ye, As, when that Nero burned the city Of Rome, cried the senatores’ wives, For that their husbands losten all their lives; Withoute guilt this Nero hath them slain. Now will I turn unto my tale again;

The sely* widow, and her daughters two, *simple, honest Hearde these hennes cry and make woe, And at the doors out started they anon, And saw the fox toward the wood is gone, And bare upon his back the cock away: They cried, “Out! harow! and well-away! Aha! the fox!” and after him they ran, And eke with staves many another man Ran Coll our dog, and Talbot, and Garland; And Malkin, with her distaff in her hand Ran cow and calf, and eke the very hogges So fear’d they were for barking of the dogges, And shouting of the men and women eke. They ranne so, them thought their hearts would break. They yelled as the fiendes do in hell; The duckes cried as men would them quell;* *kill, destroy The geese for feare flewen o’er the trees, Out of the hive came the swarm of bees, So hideous was the noise, ben’dicite! Certes he, Jacke Straw,<35> and his meinie,* *followers Ne made never shoutes half so shrill When that they woulden any Fleming kill, As thilke day was made upon the fox. Of brass they broughte beames* and of box, *trumpets <36> Of horn and bone, in which they blew and pooped,* **tooted And therewithal they shrieked and they hooped; It seemed as the heaven shoulde fall

Now, goode men, I pray you hearken all; Lo, how Fortune turneth suddenly The hope and pride eke of her enemy. This cock, that lay upon the fox’s back, In all his dread unto the fox he spake, And saide, “Sir, if that I were as ye, Yet would I say (as wisly* God help me), *surely ‘Turn ye again, ye proude churles all; A very pestilence upon you fall. Now am I come unto the woode’s side, Maugre your head, the cock shall here abide; I will him eat, in faith, and that anon.’” The fox answer’d, “In faith it shall be done:” And, as he spake the word, all suddenly The cock brake from his mouth deliverly,* *nimbly And high upon a tree he flew anon. And when the fox saw that the cock was gone, “Alas!” quoth he, “O Chanticleer, alas! I have,” quoth he, “y-done to you trespass,* *offence Inasmuch as I maked you afear’d, When I you hent,* and brought out of your yard; *took But, Sir, I did it in no wick’ intent; Come down, and I shall tell you what I meant. I shall say sooth to you, God help me so.” “Nay then,” quoth he, “I shrew* us both the two, *curse And first I shrew myself, both blood and bones, If thou beguile me oftener than once. Thou shalt no more through thy flattery Do* me to sing and winke with mine eye; *cause For he that winketh when he shoulde see, All wilfully, God let him never the.”* *thrive “Nay,” quoth the fox; “but God give him mischance That is so indiscreet of governance, That jangleth* when that he should hold his peace.” *chatters

Lo, what it is for to be reckeless And negligent, and trust on flattery. But ye that holde this tale a folly, As of a fox, or of a cock or hen, Take the morality thereof, good men. For Saint Paul saith, That all that written is, *To our doctrine it written is y-wis.* <37> *is surely written for Take the fruit, and let the chaff be still. our instruction*

Now goode God, if that it be thy will, As saith my Lord, <38> so make us all good men; And bring us all to thy high bliss. Amen.

Notes to the Nun’s Priest’s Tale

1. The Tale of the Nun’s Priest is founded on the fifth chapter of an old French metrical “Romance of Renard;” the same story forming one of the fables of Marie, the translator of the Breton Lays. (See note 2 to the Prologue to the Franklin’s Tale.) Although Dryden was in error when he ascribed the Tale to Chaucer’s own invention, still the materials on which he had to operate were out of cornparison more trivial than the result.

2. Tyrwhitt quotes two statutes of Edward III, in which “deys” are included among the servants employed in agricultural pursuits; the name seems to have originally meant a servant who gave his labour by the day, but afterwards to have been appropriated exclusively to one who superintended or worked in a dairy.

3. Orgon: here licentiously used for the plural, “organs” or “orgons,” corresponding to the plural verb “gon” in the next line.

4. Horloge: French, “clock.”

5. Embattell’d: indented on the upper edge like the battlements of a castle.

6. My lefe is fare in land: This seems to have been the refrain of some old song, and its precise meaning is uncertain. It corresponds in cadence with the morning salutation of the cock; and may be taken as a greeting to the sun, which is beloved of Chanticleer, and has just come upon the earth — or in the sense of a more local boast, as vaunting the fairness of his favourite hen above all others in the country round.

Transcriber’s note: Later commentators explain “fare in land” as “gone abroad” and have identified the song:

My lefe is fare in lond Alas! Why is she so? And I am so sore bound I may not come her to. She hath my heart in hold Where ever she ride or go With true love a thousand-fold.

(Printed in The Athenaeum, 1896, Vol II, p. 566).

7. “Avoi!” is the word here rendered “away!” It was frequently used in the French fabliaux, and the Italians employ the word “via!” in the same sense.

8. “Ne do no force of dreams:” “Somnia ne cares;” — Cato “De Moribus,” 1 ii, dist. 32

9. Centaury: the herb so called because by its virtue the centaur Chiron was healed when the poisoned arrow of Hercules had accidentally wounded his foot.

10. Fumetere: the herb “fumitory.”

11. Catapuce: spurge; a plant of purgative qualities. To its name in the text correspond the Italian “catapuzza,” and French “catapuce” — words the origin of which is connected with the effects of the plant.

12. Gaitre-berries: dog-wood berries.

13. One of the greatest authors that men read: Cicero, who in his book “De Divinatione” tells this and the following story, though in contrary order and with many differences.

14. Haled or hylled; from Anglo-Saxon “helan” hid, concealed

15. Kenelm succeeded his father as king of the Saxon realm of Mercia in 811, at the age of seven years; but he was slain by his ambitious aunt Quendrada. The place of his burial was miraculously discovered, and he was subsequently elevated to the rank of a saint and martyr. His life is in the English “Golden Legend.”

16. Mercenrike: the kingdom of Mercia; Anglo-Saxon, Myrcnarice. Compare the second member of the compound in the German, “Frankreich,” France; “Oesterreich,” Austria.

17. Cicero (“De Republica,” lib. vi.) wrote the Dream of Scipio, in which the Younger relates the appearance of the Elder Africanus, and the counsels and exhortations which the shade addressed to the sleeper. Macrobius wrote an elaborate “Commentary on the Dream of Scipio,” — a philosophical treatise much studied and relished during the Middle Ages.

18. See the Monk’s Tale for this story.

19. Andromache’s dream will not be found in Homer; It is related in the book of the fictitious Dares Phrygius, the most popular authority during the Middle Ages for the history of the Trojan War.

20. In principio: In the beginning; the first words of Genesis and of the Gospel of John.

21. Mulier est hominis confusio: This line is taken from the same fabulous conference between the Emperor Adrian and the philosopher Secundus, whence Chaucer derived some of the arguments in praise of poverty employed in the Wife of Bath’s Tale proper. See note 14 to the Wife of Bath’s tale. The passage transferred to the text is the commencement of a description of woman. “Quid est mulier? hominis confusio,” &c. (“What is Woman? A union with man”, &c.)

22. Col-fox: a blackish fox, so called because of its likeness to coal, according to Skinner; though more probably the prefix has a reproachful meaning, and is in some way connected with the word “cold” as, some forty lines below, it is applied to the prejudicial counsel of women, and as frequently it is used to describe “sighs” and other tokens of grief, and “cares” or “anxieties.”

23. Undern: In this case, the meaning of “evening” or “afternoon” can hardly be applied to the word, which must be taken to signify some early hour of the forenoon. See also note 4 to the Wife of Bath’s tale and note 5 to the Clerk’s Tale.

24. Ganilion: a traitor. See note 9 to the Shipman’s Tale and note 28 to the Monk’s Tale.

25. Greek Sinon: The inventor of the Trojan Horse. See note 14 to the Squire’s Tale

26. Boult it from the bren: Examine the matter thoroughly; a metaphor taken from the sifting of meal, to divide the fine flour from the bran.

27. Thomas Bradwardine, Archbishop of Canterbury in the thirteenth century, who wrote a book, “De Causa Dei,” in controversy with Pelagius; and also numerous other treatises, among them some on predestination.

28. In a popular mediaveal Latin treatise by one Theobaldus, entitled “Physiologus de Naturis XII. Animalium” (“A description of the nature of twelve animals”), sirens or mermaids are described as skilled in song, and drawing unwary mariners to destruction by the sweetness of their voices.

29. “Nigellus Wireker,” says Urry’s Glossary, “a monk and precentor of Canterbury, wrote a Latin poem intituled ‘Speculum Speculorum,’ (‘The mirror of mirrors’) dedicated to William Longchamp, Bishop of Ely, and Lord Chancellor; wherein, under the fable of an Ass (which he calls ‘Burnellus’) that desired a longer tail, is represented the folly of such as are not content with their own condition. There is introduced a tale of a cock, who having his leg broke by a priest’s son (called Gundulfus) watched an opportunity to be revenged; which at last presented itself on this occasion: A day was appointed for Gundulfus’s being admitted into holy orders at a place remote from his father’s habitation; he therefore orders the servants to call him at first cock-crowing, which the cock overhearing did not crow at all that morning. So Gundulfus overslept himself, and was thereby disappointed of his ordination, the office being quite finished before he came to the place.” Wireker’s satire was among the most celebrated and popular Latin poems of the Middle Ages. The Ass was probably as Tyrwhitt suggests, called “Burnel” or “Brunel,” from his brown colour; as, a little below, a reddish fox is called “Russel.”

30. Flattour: flatterer; French, “flatteur.”

31. Losengeour: deceiver, cozener; the word had analogues in the French “losengier,” and the Spanish “lisongero.” It is probably connected with “leasing,” falsehood; which has been derived from Anglo-Saxon “hlisan,” to celebrate — as if it meant the spreading of a false renown

32. Dan Russel: Master Russet; a name given to the fox, from his reddish colour.

33. Geoffrey de Vinsauf was the author of a well-known mediaeval treatise on composition in various poetical styles of which he gave examples. Chaucer’s irony is therefore directed against some grandiose and affected lines on the death of Richard I., intended to illustrate the pathetic style, in which Friday is addressed as “O Veneris lachrymosa dies” (“O tearful day of Venus”).

34. “Priamum altaria ad ipsa trementem Traxit, et in multo lapsantem sanguine nati Implicuitque comam laeva, dextraque coruscum Extulit, ac lateri capulo tenus abdidit ensem. Haec finis Priami fatorum.” (“He dragged Priam trembling to his own altar, slipping on the blood of his child; He took his hair in his left hand, and with the right drew the flashing sword, and hid it to the hilt [in his body]. Thus an end was made of Priam”) — Virgil, Aeneid. ii. 550.

35. Jack Straw: The leader of a Kentish rising, in the reign of Richard II, in 1381, by which the Flemish merchants in London were great sufferers.

36. Beams: trumpets; Anglo-Saxon, “bema.”

37. “All scripture is given by inspiration of God, and is profitable for doctrine, for reproof, for correction, for instruction in righteousness: that the man of God may be perfect, throughly furnished unto all good works.” — 2 Tim. iii. 16.

THE EPILOGUE <1>

“Sir Nunne’s Priest,” our hoste said anon, “Y-blessed be thy breech, and every stone; This was a merry tale of Chanticleer. But by my truth, if thou wert seculere,* *a layman Thou wouldest be a treadefowl* aright; *cock For if thou have courage as thou hast might, Thee were need of hennes, as I ween, Yea more than seven times seventeen. See, whate brawnes* hath this gentle priest, *muscles, sinews So great a neck, and such a large breast He looketh as a sperhawk with his eyen Him needeth not his colour for to dyen With Brazil, nor with grain of Portugale. But, Sir, faire fall you for your tale’.” And, after that, he with full merry cheer Said to another, as ye shall hear.

Notes to the Epilogue to the Nun’s Priest’s Tale

1. The sixteen lines appended to the Tale of the Nun’s Priest seem, as Tyrwhitt observes, to commence the prologue to the succeeding Tale — but the difficulty is to determine which that Tale should be. In earlier editions, the lines formed the opening of the prologue to the Manciple’s Tale; but most of the manuscripts acknowledge themselves defective in this part, and give the Nun’s Tale after that of the Nun’s Priest. In the Harleian manuscript, followed by Mr Wright, the second Nun’s Tale, and the Canon’s Yeoman’s Tale, are placed after the Franklin’s tale; and the sixteen lines above are not found — the Manciple’s prologue coming immediately after the “Amen” of the Nun’s Priest. In two manuscripts, the last line of the sixteen runs thus: “Said unto the Nun as ye shall hear;” and six lines more evidently forged, are given to introduce the Nun’s Tale. All this confusion and doubt only strengthen the certainty, and deepen the regret, that “The Canterbury Tales” were left at Chaucer’s, death not merely very imperfect as a whole, but destitute of many finishing touches that would have made them complete so far as the conception had actually been carried into performance.

THE SECOND NUN’S TALE <1>

The minister and norice* unto vices, *nurse Which that men call in English idleness, The porter at the gate is of delices;* *delights T’eschew, and by her contrar’ her oppress, — That is to say, by lawful business,* — *occupation, activity Well oughte we to *do our all intent* *apply ourselves* Lest that the fiend through idleness us hent.* *seize

For he, that with his thousand cordes sly Continually us waiteth to beclap,* *entangle, bind When he may man in idleness espy, He can so lightly catch him in his trap, Till that a man be hent* right by the lappe,** *seize **hem He is not ware the fiend hath him in hand; Well ought we work, and idleness withstand.

And though men dreaded never for to die, Yet see men well by reason, doubteless, That idleness is root of sluggardy, Of which there cometh never good increase; And see that sloth them holdeth in a leas,* *leash <2> Only to sleep, and for to eat and drink, And to devouren all that others swink.* *labour

And, for to put us from such idleness, That cause is of so great confusion, I have here done my faithful business, After the Legend, in translation Right of thy glorious life and passion, — Thou with thy garland wrought of rose and lily, Thee mean I, maid and martyr, Saint Cecilie.

And thou, thou art the flow’r of virgins all, Of whom that Bernard list so well to write, <3> To thee at my beginning first I call; Thou comfort of us wretches, do me indite Thy maiden’s death, that won through her merite Th’ eternal life, and o’er the fiend victory, As man may after readen in her story.

Thou maid and mother, daughter of thy Son, Thou well of mercy, sinful soules’ cure, In whom that God of bounte chose to won;* *dwell Thou humble and high o’er every creature, Thou nobilest, *so far forth our nature,* *as far as our nature admits* That no disdain the Maker had of kind,* *nature His Son in blood and flesh to clothe and wind.* *wrap

Within the cloister of thy blissful sides Took manne’s shape th’ eternal love and peace, That of *the trine compass* Lord and guide is *the trinity* Whom earth, and sea, and heav’n, *out of release,* *unceasingly *Aye hery;* and thou, Virgin wemmeless,* *forever praise* *immaculate Bare of thy body, and dweltest maiden pure, The Creator of every creature.

Assembled is in thee magnificence <4> With mercy, goodness, and with such pity, That thou, that art the sun of excellence, Not only helpest them that pray to thee, But oftentime, of thy benignity, Full freely, ere that men thine help beseech, Thou go’st before, and art their lives’ leech.* *healer, saviour.

Now help, thou meek and blissful faire maid, Me, flemed* wretch, in this desert of gall; *banished, outcast Think on the woman Cananee that said That whelpes eat some of the crumbes all That from their Lorde’s table be y-fall;<5> And though that I, unworthy son of Eve,<6> Be sinful, yet accepte my believe.* *faith

And, for that faith is dead withoute werkes, For to worke give me wit and space, That I be *quit from thennes that most derk is;* *freed from the most O thou, that art so fair and full of grace, dark place (Hell)* Be thou mine advocate in that high place, Where as withouten end is sung Osanne, Thou Christe’s mother, daughter dear of Anne.

And of thy light my soul in prison light, That troubled is by the contagion Of my body, and also by the weight Of earthly lust and false affection; O hav’n of refuge, O salvation Of them that be in sorrow and distress, Now help, for to my work I will me dress.

Yet pray I you, that reade what I write, <6> Forgive me that I do no diligence This ilke* story subtilly t’ indite. *same For both have I the wordes and sentence Of him that at the sainte’s reverence The story wrote, and follow her legend; And pray you that you will my work amend.

First will I you the name of Saint Cecilie Expound, as men may in her story see. It is to say in English, Heaven’s lily,<7> For pure chasteness of virginity; Or, for she whiteness had of honesty,* *purity And green of conscience, and of good fame The sweete savour, Lilie was her name.

Or Cecilie is to say, the way of blind;<7> For she example was by good teaching; Or else Cecilie, as I written find, Is joined by a manner conjoining Of heaven and Lia, <7> and herein figuring The heaven is set for thought of holiness, And Lia for her lasting business.

Cecilie may eke be said in this mannere, Wanting of blindness, for her greate light Of sapience, and for her thewes* clear. *qualities Or elles, lo, this maiden’s name bright Of heaven and Leos <7> comes, for which by right Men might her well the heaven of people call, Example of good and wise workes all;

For Leos people in English is to say; And right as men may in the heaven see The sun and moon, and starres every way, Right so men ghostly,* in this maiden free, *spiritually Sawen of faith the magnanimity, And eke the clearness whole of sapience, And sundry workes bright of excellence.

And right so as these philosophers write, That heav’n is swift and round, and eke burning, Right so was faire Cecilie the white Full swift and busy in every good working, And round and whole in good persevering, <8> And burning ever in charity full bright; Now have I you declared *what she hight.* *why she had her name*

This maiden bright Cecile, as her life saith, Was come of Romans, and of noble kind, And from her cradle foster’d in the faith Of Christ, and bare his Gospel in her mind: She never ceased, as I written find, Of her prayere, and God to love and dread, Beseeching him to keep her maidenhead.

And when this maiden should unto a man Y-wedded be, that was full young of age, Which that y-called was Valerian, And come was the day of marriage, She, full devout and humble in her corage,* *heart Under her robe of gold, that sat full fair, Had next her flesh y-clad her in an hair.* *garment of hair-cloth

And while the organs made melody, To God alone thus in her heart sang she; “O Lord, my soul and eke my body gie* *guide Unwemmed,* lest that I confounded be.” *unblemished And, for his love that died upon the tree, Every second or third day she fast’, Aye bidding* in her orisons full fast. *praying

The night came, and to bedde must she gon With her husband, as it is the mannere; And privily she said to him anon; “O sweet and well-beloved spouse dear, There is a counsel,* an’** ye will it hear, *secret **if Which that right fain I would unto you say, So that ye swear ye will it not bewray.”* *betray

Valerian gan fast unto her swear That for no case nor thing that mighte be, He never should to none bewrayen her; And then at erst* thus to him saide she; *for the first time “I have an angel which that loveth me, That with great love, whether I wake or sleep, Is ready aye my body for to keep;

“And if that he may feelen, *out of dread,* *without doubt* That ye me touch or love in villainy, He right anon will slay you with the deed, And in your youthe thus ye shoulde die. And if that ye in cleane love me gie,”* *guide He will you love as me, for your cleanness, And shew to you his joy and his brightness.”

Valerian, corrected as God wo’ld, Answer’d again, “If I shall truste thee, Let me that angel see, and him behold; And if that it a very angel be, Then will I do as thou hast prayed me; And if thou love another man, forsooth Right with this sword then will I slay you both.”

Cecile answer’d anon right in this wise; “If that you list, the angel shall ye see, So that ye trow* Of Christ, and you baptise; *know Go forth to Via Appia,” quoth she, That from this towne stands but miles three, And to the poore folkes that there dwell Say them right thus, as that I shall you tell,

“Tell them, that I, Cecile, you to them sent To shewe you the good Urban the old, For secret needes,* and for good intent; *business And when that ye Saint Urban have behold, Tell him the wordes which I to you told And when that he hath purged you from sin, Then shall ye see that angel ere ye twin* *depart

Valerian is to the place gone; And, right as he was taught by her learning He found this holy old Urban anon Among the saintes’ burials louting;* *lying concealed <9> And he anon, withoute tarrying, Did his message, and when that he it told, Urban for joy his handes gan uphold.

The teares from his eyen let he fall; “Almighty Lord, O Jesus Christ,” Quoth he, “Sower of chaste counsel, herd* of us all; *shepherd The fruit of thilke* seed of chastity *that That thou hast sown in Cecile, take to thee Lo, like a busy bee, withoute guile, Thee serveth aye thine owen thrall* Cicile, *servant

“For thilke spouse, that she took *but now,* *lately* Full like a fierce lion, she sendeth here, As meek as e’er was any lamb to owe.” And with that word anon there gan appear An old man, clad in white clothes clear, That had a book with letters of gold in hand, And gan before Valerian to stand.

Valerian, as dead, fell down for dread, When he him saw; and he up hent* him tho,** *took **there And on his book right thus he gan to read; “One Lord, one faith, one God withoute mo’, One Christendom, one Father of all also, Aboven all, and over all everywhere.” These wordes all with gold y-written were.

When this was read, then said this olde man, “Believ’st thou this or no? say yea or nay.” “I believe all this,” quoth Valerian, “For soother* thing than this, I dare well say, *truer Under the Heaven no wight thinke may.” Then vanish’d the old man, he wist not where And Pope Urban him christened right there.

Valerian went home, and found Cecilie Within his chamber with an angel stand; This angel had of roses and of lily Corones* two, the which he bare in hand, *crowns And first to Cecile, as I understand, He gave the one, and after gan he take The other to Valerian her make.* *mate, husband

“With body clean, and with unwemmed* thought, *unspotted, blameless Keep aye well these corones two,” quoth he; “From Paradise to you I have them brought, Nor ever more shall they rotten be, Nor lose their sweet savour, truste me, Nor ever wight shall see them with his eye, But he be chaste, and hate villainy.

“And thou, Valerian, for thou so soon Assented hast to good counsel, also Say what thee list,* and thou shalt have thy boon.”** *wish **desire “I have a brother,” quoth Valerian tho,* *then “That in this world I love no man so; I pray you that my brother may have grace To know the truth, as I do in this place.”

The angel said, “God liketh thy request, And bothe, with the palm of martyrdom, Ye shalle come unto this blissful rest.” And, with that word, Tiburce his brother came. And when that he the savour undernome* *perceived Which that the roses and the lilies cast, Within his heart he gan to wonder fast;

And said; “I wonder, this time of the year, Whence that sweete savour cometh so Of rose and lilies, that I smelle here; For though I had them in mine handes two, The savour might in me no deeper go; The sweete smell, that in my heart I find, Hath changed me all in another kind.”

Valerian said, “Two crownes here have we, Snow-white and rose-red, that shine clear, Which that thine eyen have no might to see; And, as thou smellest them through my prayere, So shalt thou see them, leve* brother dear, *beloved If it so be thou wilt withoute sloth Believe aright, and know the very troth. “

Tiburce answered, “Say’st thou this to me In soothness, or in dreame hear I this?” “In dreames,” quoth Valorian, “have we be Unto this time, brother mine, y-wis But now *at erst* in truth our dwelling is.” *for the first time* How know’st thou this,” quoth Tiburce; “in what wise?” Quoth Valerian, “That shall I thee devise* *describe

“The angel of God hath me the truth y-taught, Which thou shalt see, if that thou wilt reny* *renounce The idols, and be clean, and elles nought.” [And of the miracle of these crownes tway Saint Ambrose in his preface list to say; Solemnely this noble doctor dear Commendeth it, and saith in this mannere

“The palm of martyrdom for to receive, Saint Cecilie, full filled of God’s gift, The world and eke her chamber gan to weive;* *forsake Witness Tiburce’s and Cecilie’s shrift,* *confession To which God of his bounty woulde shift Corones two, of flowers well smelling, And made his angel them the crownes bring.

“The maid hath brought these men to bliss above; The world hath wist what it is worth, certain, Devotion of chastity to love.”] <10> Then showed him Cecilie all open and plain, That idols all are but a thing in vain, For they be dumb, and thereto* they be deave;** *therefore **deaf And charged him his idols for to leave.

“Whoso that troweth* not this, a beast he is,” *believeth Quoth this Tiburce, “if that I shall not lie.” And she gan kiss his breast when she heard this, And was full glad he could the truth espy: “This day I take thee for mine ally.”* *chosen friend Saide this blissful faire maiden dear; And after that she said as ye may hear.

“Lo, right so as the love of Christ,” quoth she, “Made me thy brother’s wife, right in that wise Anon for mine ally here take I thee, Since that thou wilt thine idoles despise. Go with thy brother now and thee baptise, And make thee clean, so that thou may’st behold The angel’s face, of which thy brother told.”

Tiburce answer’d, and saide, “Brother dear, First tell me whither I shall, and to what man?” “To whom?” quoth he, “come forth with goode cheer, I will thee lead unto the Pope Urban.” “To Urban? brother mine Valerian,” Quoth then Tiburce; “wilt thou me thither lead? Me thinketh that it were a wondrous deed.

“Meanest thou not that Urban,” quoth he tho,* *then “That is so often damned to be dead, And wons* in halkes** always to and fro, *dwells **corners And dare not ones putte forth his head? Men should him brennen* in a fire so red, *burn If he were found, or if men might him spy: And us also, to bear him company.

“And while we seeke that Divinity That is y-hid in heaven privily, Algate* burnt in this world should we be.” *nevertheless To whom Cecilie answer’d boldely; “Men mighte dreade well and skilfully* *reasonably This life to lose, mine owen deare brother, If this were living only, and none other.

“But there is better life in other place, That never shall be loste, dread thee nought; Which Godde’s Son us tolde through his grace That Father’s Son which alle thinges wrought; And all that wrought is with a skilful* thought, *reasonable The Ghost,* that from the Father gan proceed, *Holy Spirit Hath souled* them, withouten any drede.** *endowed them with a soul **doubt By word and by miracle, high God’s Son, When he was in this world, declared here. That there is other life where men may won.”* *dwell To whom answer’d Tiburce, “O sister dear, Saidest thou not right now in this mannere, There was but one God, Lord in soothfastness,* *truth And now of three how may’st thou bear witness?”

“That shall I tell,” quoth she, “ere that I go. Right as a man hath sapiences* three, *mental faculties Memory, engine,* and intellect also, *wit <11> So in one being of divinity Three persones there maye right well be.” Then gan she him full busily to preach Of Christe’s coming, and his paines teach,

And many pointes of his passion; How Godde’s Son in this world was withhold* *employed To do mankinde plein* remission, *full That was y-bound in sin and cares cold.* *wretched <12> All this thing she unto Tiburce told, And after that Tiburce, in good intent, With Valerian to Pope Urban he went.

That thanked God, and with glad heart and light He christen’d him, and made him in that place Perfect in his learning, and Godde’s knight. And after this Tiburce got such grace, That every day he saw in time and space Th’ angel of God, and every manner boon* *request, favour That be God asked, it was sped* full anon. *granted, successful

It were full hard by order for to sayn How many wonders Jesus for them wrought, But at the last, to telle short and plain, The sergeants of the town of Rome them sought, And them before Almach the Prefect brought, Which them apposed,* and knew all their intent, *questioned And to th’image of Jupiter them sent.

And said, “Whoso will not do sacrifice, Swap* off his head, this is my sentence here.” *strike Anon these martyrs, *that I you devise,* *of whom I tell you* One Maximus, that was an officere Of the prefect’s, and his corniculere <13> Them hent,* and when he forth the saintes lad,** *seized **led Himself he wept for pity that he had.

When Maximus had heard the saintes lore,* *doctrine, teaching He got him of the tormentores* leave, *torturers And led them to his house withoute more; And with their preaching, ere that it were eve, They gonnen* from the tormentors to reave,** *began **wrest, root out And from Maxim’, and from his folk each one, The false faith, to trow* in God alone. *believe

Cecilia came, when it was waxen night, With priestes, that them christen’d *all in fere;* *in a company* And afterward, when day was waxen light, Cecile them said with a full steadfast cheer,* *mien “Now, Christe’s owen knightes lefe* and dear, *beloved Cast all away the workes of darkness, And arme you in armour of brightness.

Ye have forsooth y-done a great battaile, Your course is done, your faith have ye conserved; <14> O to the crown of life that may not fail; The rightful Judge, which that ye have served Shall give it you, as ye have it deserved.” And when this thing was said, as I devise,* relate Men led them forth to do the sacrifice.

But when they were unto the place brought To telle shortly the conclusion, They would incense nor sacrifice right nought But on their knees they sette them adown, With humble heart and sad* devotion, *steadfast And loste both their heades in the place; Their soules wente to the King of grace.

This Maximus, that saw this thing betide, With piteous teares told it anon right, That he their soules saw to heaven glide With angels, full of clearness and of light Andt with his word converted many a wight. For which Almachius *did him to-beat* *see note <15>* With whip of lead, till he his life gan lete.* *quit

Cecile him took, and buried him anon By Tiburce and Valerian softely, Within their burying-place, under the stone. And after this Almachius hastily Bade his ministers fetchen openly Cecile, so that she might in his presence Do sacrifice, and Jupiter incense.* *burn incense to

But they, converted at her wise lore,* *teaching Wepte full sore, and gave full credence Unto her word, and cried more and more; “Christ, Godde’s Son, withoute difference, Is very God, this is all our sentence,* *opinion That hath so good a servant him to serve Thus with one voice we trowe,* though we sterve.** *believe **die

Almachius, that heard of this doing, Bade fetch Cecilie, that he might her see; And alderfirst,* lo, this was his asking; *first of all “What manner woman arte thou?” quoth he, “I am a gentle woman born,” quoth she. “I aske thee,” quoth he,”though it thee grieve, Of thy religion and of thy believe.”

“Ye have begun your question foolishly,” Quoth she, “that wouldest two answers conclude In one demand? ye aske lewedly.”* *ignorantly Almach answer’d to that similitude, “Of whence comes thine answering so rude?” “Of whence?” quoth she, when that she was freined,* *asked “Of conscience, and of good faith unfeigned.”

Almachius saide; “Takest thou no heed Of my power?” and she him answer’d this; “Your might,” quoth she, “full little is to dread; For every mortal manne’s power is But like a bladder full of wind, y-wis;* *certainly For with a needle’s point, when it is blow’, May all the boast of it be laid full low.”

“Full wrongfully begunnest thou,” quoth he, “And yet in wrong is thy perseverance. Know’st thou not how our mighty princes free Have thus commanded and made ordinance, That every Christian wight shall have penance,* *punishment But if that he his Christendom withsay,* *deny And go all quit, if he will it renay?”* *renounce

“Your princes erren, as your nobley* doth,” *nobility Quoth then Cecile, “and with a *wood sentence* *mad judgment* Ye make us guilty, and it is not sooth:* *true For ye that knowe well our innocence, Forasmuch as we do aye reverence To Christ, and for we bear a Christian name, Ye put on us a crime and eke a blame.

“But we that knowe thilke name so For virtuous, we may it not withsay.” Almach answered, “Choose one of these two, Do sacrifice, or Christendom renay, That thou may’st now escape by that way.” At which the holy blissful faire maid Gan for to laugh, and to the judge said;

“O judge, *confused in thy nicety,* *confounded in thy folly* Wouldest thou that I reny innocence? To make me a wicked wight,” quoth she, “Lo, he dissimuleth* here in audience; *dissembles He stareth and woodeth* in his advertence.”** *grows furious **thought To whom Almachius said, “Unsely* wretch, *unhappy Knowest thou not how far my might may stretch?

“Have not our mighty princes to me given Yea bothe power and eke authority To make folk to dien or to liven? Why speakest thou so proudly then to me?” “I speake not but steadfastly,” quoth she, Not proudly, for I say, as for my side, We hate deadly* thilke vice of pride. *mortally

“And, if thou dreade not a sooth* to hear, *truth Then will I shew all openly by right, That thou hast made a full great leasing* here. *falsehood Thou say’st thy princes have thee given might Both for to slay and for to quick* a wight, — *give life to Thou that may’st not but only life bereave; Thou hast none other power nor no leave.

“But thou may’st say, thy princes have thee maked Minister of death; for if thou speak of mo’, Thou liest; for thy power is full naked.” “Do away thy boldness,” said Almachius tho,* *then “And sacrifice to our gods, ere thou go. I recke not what wrong that thou me proffer, For I can suffer it as a philosopher.

“But those wronges may I not endure, That thou speak’st of our goddes here,” quoth he. Cecile answer’d, “O nice* creature, *foolish Thou saidest no word, since thou spake to me, That I knew not therewith thy nicety,* *folly And that thou wert in *every manner wise* *every sort of way* A lewed* officer, a vain justice. *ignorant

“There lacketh nothing to thine outward eyen That thou art blind; for thing that we see all That it is stone, that men may well espyen, That ilke* stone a god thou wilt it call. *very, selfsame I rede* thee let thine hand upon it fall, *advise And taste* it well, and stone thou shalt it find; *examine, test Since that thou see’st not with thine eyen blind.

“It is a shame that the people shall So scorne thee, and laugh at thy folly; For commonly men *wot it well over all,* *know it everywhere* That mighty God is in his heaven high; And these images, well may’st thou espy, To thee nor to themselves may not profite, For in effect they be not worth a mite.”

These wordes and such others saide she, And he wax’d wroth, and bade men should her lead Home to her house; “And in her house,” quoth he, “Burn her right in a bath, with flames red.” And as he bade, right so was done the deed; For in a bath they gan her faste shetten,* *shut, confine And night and day great fire they under betten.* *kindled, applied

The longe night, and eke a day also, For all the fire, and eke the bathe’s heat, She sat all cold, and felt of it no woe, It made her not one droppe for to sweat; But in that bath her life she must lete.* *leave For he, Almachius, with full wick’ intent, To slay her in the bath his sonde* sent. *message, order

Three strokes in the neck he smote her tho,* *there The tormentor,* but for no manner chance *executioner He might not smite her faire neck in two: And, for there was that time an ordinance That no man should do man such penance,* *severity, torture The fourthe stroke to smite, soft or sore, This tormentor he durste do no more;