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Ϊֻ򾺲ַ:a g 9 559 v i p<"If thou hast had in love ay yet mischance, And canst it not out of thine hearte drive, I that lived in lust* and in pleasance *delight With her, as much as creature alive, How should I that forget, and that so blive?* *quickly O where hast thou been so long hid in mew,*<74> *cage That canst so well and formally argue!"90. My rather speech: my earlier, former subject; "rather" is the cormparative of the old adjective "rath," early.

26. Parvis: The portico of St. Paul's, which lawyers frequented to meet their clients.

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1. This Tale was originally composed by Chaucer as a separate work, and as such it is mentioned in the "Legend of Good Women" under the title of "The Life of Saint Cecile". Tyrwhitt quotes the line in which the author calls himself an "unworthy son of Eve," and that in which he says, "Yet pray I you, that reade what I write", as internal evidence that the insertion of the poem in the Canterbury Tales was the result of an afterthought; while the whole tenor of the introduction confirms the belief that Chaucer composed it as a writer or translator -- not, dramatically, as a speaker. The story is almost literally translated from the Life of St Cecilia in the "Legenda Aurea."

26. The scorning jay: scorning humbler birds, out of pride of his fine plumage.

5. De par dieux: by the gods.

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45. "Venite, exultemus," ("Come, let us rejoice") are the first words of Psalm xcv. called the "Invitatory."

When he escaped was, he could not stint* *refrain For to begin a newe war again; He weened well, for that Fortune him sent Such hap, that he escaped through the rain, That of his foes he mighte not be slain. And eke a sweven* on a night he mette,** *dream **dreamed Of which he was so proud, and eke so fain,* *glad That he in vengeance all his hearte set.

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And so it fell upon a day, For sooth as I you telle may, Sir Thopas would out ride; He worth* upon his steede gray, *mounted And in his hand a launcegay,* *spear <10> A long sword by his side.

L'Envoy of Chaucer.

"Ah," quoth this Sompnour, "benedicite! what say y'? I weened ye were a yeoman truly. *thought Ye have a manne's shape as well as I Have ye then a figure determinate In helle, where ye be in your estate?"* *at home "Nay, certainly," quoth he, there have we none, But when us liketh we can take us one, Or elles make you seem* that we be shape *believe Sometime like a man, or like an ape; Or like an angel can I ride or go; It is no wondrous thing though it be so, A lousy juggler can deceive thee. And pardie, yet can I more craft* than he." *skill, cunning "Why," quoth the Sompnour, "ride ye then or gon In sundry shapes and not always in one?" "For we," quoth he, "will us in such form make. As most is able our prey for to take." "What maketh you to have all this labour?" "Full many a cause, leve Sir Sompnour," Saide this fiend. "But all thing hath a time; The day is short and it is passed prime, And yet have I won nothing in this day; I will intend* to winning, if I may, *apply myself And not intend our thinges to declare: For, brother mine, thy wit is all too bare To understand, although I told them thee. *But for* thou askest why laboure we: *because* For sometimes we be Godde's instruments And meanes to do his commandements, When that him list, upon his creatures, In divers acts and in divers figures: Withoute him we have no might certain, If that him list to stande thereagain.* *against it And sometimes, at our prayer have we leave Only the body, not the soul, to grieve: Witness on Job, whom that we did full woe, And sometimes have we might on both the two, -- This is to say, on soul and body eke, And sometimes be we suffer'd for to seek Upon a man and do his soul unrest And not his body, and all is for the best, When he withstandeth our temptation, It is a cause of his salvation, Albeit that it was not our intent He should be safe, but that we would him hent.* *catch And sometimes be we servants unto man, As to the archbishop Saint Dunstan, And to th'apostle servant eke was I." "Yet tell me," quoth this Sompnour, "faithfully, Make ye you newe bodies thus alway Of th' elements?" The fiend answered, "Nay: Sometimes we feign, and sometimes we arise With deade bodies, in full sundry wise, And speak as reas'nably, and fair, and well, As to the Pythoness<9> did Samuel: And yet will some men say it was not he. I *do no force of* your divinity. *set no value upon* But one thing warn I thee, I will not jape,* jest Thou wilt *algates weet* how we be shape: *assuredly know* Thou shalt hereafterward, my brother dear, Come, where thee needeth not of me to lear.* *learn For thou shalt by thine own experience *Conne in a chair to rede of this sentence,* *learn to understand Better than Virgil, while he was alive, what I have said* Or Dante also. <10> Now let us ride blive,* *briskly For I will holde company with thee, Till it be so that thou forsake me." "Nay," quoth this Sompnour, "that shall ne'er betide. I am a yeoman, that is known full wide; My trothe will I hold, as in this case; For though thou wert the devil Satanas, My trothe will I hold to thee, my brother, As I have sworn, and each of us to other, For to be true brethren in this case, And both we go *abouten our purchase.* *seeking what we Take thou thy part, what that men will thee give, may pick up* And I shall mine, thus may we bothe live. And if that any of us have more than other, Let him be true, and part it with his brother." "I grante," quoth the devil, "by my fay." And with that word they rode forth their way, And right at th'ent'ring of the towne's end, To which this Sompnour shope* him for to wend,** *shaped **go They saw a cart, that charged was with hay, Which that a carter drove forth on his way. Deep was the way, for which the carte stood: The carter smote, and cried as he were wood,* *mad "Heit Scot! heit Brok! what, spare ye for the stones? The fiend (quoth he) you fetch body and bones, As farforthly* as ever ye were foal'd, *sure So muche woe as I have with you tholed.* *endured <11> The devil have all, horses, and cart, and hay." The Sompnour said, "Here shall we have a prey," And near the fiend he drew, *as nought ne were,* *as if nothing Full privily, and rowned* in his ear: were the matter* "Hearken, my brother, hearken, by thy faith, *whispered Hearest thou not, how that the carter saith? Hent* it anon, for he hath giv'n it thee, *seize Both hay and cart, and eke his capels* three." *horses <12> "Nay," quoth the devil, "God wot, never a deal,* whit It is not his intent, trust thou me well; Ask him thyself, if thou not trowest* me, *believest Or elles stint* a while and thou shalt see." *stop The carter thwack'd his horses on the croup, And they began to drawen and to stoop. "Heit now," quoth he; "there, Jesus Christ you bless, And all his handiwork, both more and less! That was well twight,* mine owen liart,** boy, *pulled **grey<13> I pray God save thy body, and Saint Loy! Now is my cart out of the slough, pardie." "Lo, brother," quoth the fiend, "what told I thee? Here may ye see, mine owen deare brother, The churl spake one thing, but he thought another. Let us go forth abouten our voyage; Here win I nothing upon this carriage."

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<"And one thing I will rede* thee also, Believe thou not the cuckoo, the love's foe, For all that he hath said is strong leasing."* *falsehood "Nay," quoth I, "thereto shall nothing me bring For love, and it hath done me much woe."27. St Julian: The patron saint of hospitality, celebrated for supplying his votaries with good lodging and good cheer.

"That the worlde, with faith which that is stable, Diverseth so, his *stoundes according;* *according to its seasons* That elementes, that be discordable,* *discordant Holden a bond perpetually during; That Phoebus may his rosy day forth bring; And that the Moon hath lordship o'er the night; -- All this doth Love, ay heried* be his might! *praised

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Ϊֻ򾺲ҵ⣬ҵ210ϰ This gentle monk answer'd in this mannere; "Now truely, mine owen lady dear, I have," quoth he, "on you so greate ruth,* *pity That I you swear, and plighte you my truth, That when your husband is to Flanders fare,* *gone I will deliver you out of this care, For I will bringe you a hundred francs." And with that word he caught her by the flanks, And her embraced hard, and kissed her oft. "Go now your way," quoth he, "all still and soft, And let us dine as soon as that ye may, For by my cylinder* 'tis prime of day; *portable sundial Go now, and be as true as I shall be ." "Now elles God forbidde, Sir," quoth she; And forth she went, as jolly as a pie, And bade the cookes that they should them hie,* *make haste So that men mighte dine, and that anon. Up to her husband is this wife gone, And knocked at his contour boldely. *"Qui est la?"* quoth he. "Peter! it am I," *who is there?* Quoth she; "What, Sir, how longe all will ye fast? How longe time will ye reckon and cast Your summes, and your bookes, and your things? The devil have part of all such reckonings! Ye have enough, pardie, of Godde's sond.* *sending, gifts Come down to-day, and let your bagges stond.* *stand Ne be ye not ashamed, that Dan John Shall fasting all this day elenge* gon? *see note <10> What? let us hear a mass, and go we dine." "Wife," quoth this man, "little canst thou divine The curious businesse that we have; For of us chapmen,* all so God me save, *merchants And by that lord that cleped is Saint Ive, Scarcely amonges twenty, ten shall thrive Continually, lasting unto our age. We may well make cheer and good visage, And drive forth the world as it may be, And keepen our estate in privity, Till we be dead, or elles that we play A pilgrimage, or go out of the way. And therefore have I great necessity Upon this quaint* world to advise** me. *strange **consider For evermore must we stand in dread Of hap and fortune in our chapmanhead.* *trading To Flanders will I go to-morrow at day, And come again as soon as e'er I may: For which, my deare wife, I thee beseek *beseech As be to every wight buxom* and meek, *civil, courteous And for to keep our good be curious, And honestly governe well our house. Thou hast enough, in every manner wise, That to a thrifty household may suffice. Thee lacketh none array, nor no vitail; Of silver in thy purse thou shalt not fail." ϸ

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Ϊֻ򾺲·Ӣٿ׽ӢǷᣬָͼ̨ 23. Pompey had married his daughter Julia to Caesar; but she died six years before Pompey's final overthrow. ϸ

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