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The Canterbury Tales, and Other Poems Part 58

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WHEN said was this miracle, every man As sober* was, that wonder was to see, *serious Till that our Host to j.a.pen* he began, *talk lightly And then *at erst* he looked upon me, *for the first time*

And saide thus; "What man art thou?" quoth he; "Thou lookest as thou wouldest find an hare, For ever on the ground I see thee stare.

"Approache near, and look up merrily.

Now ware you, Sirs, and let this man have place.

He in the waist is shapen as well as I; <2> This were a puppet in an arm t'embrace For any woman small and fair of face.



He seemeth elvish* by his countenance, *surly, morose For unto no wight doth he dalliance.

"Say now somewhat, since other folk have said; Tell us a tale of mirth, and that anon."

"Hoste," quoth I, "be not evil apaid,* *dissatisfied For other tale certes can* I none, *know Eut of a rhyme I learned yore* agone." *long "Yea, that is good," quoth he; "now shall we hear Some dainty thing, me thinketh by thy cheer."* *expression, mien

Notes to the Prologue to Chaucer's Tale of Sir Thopas

1. This prologue is interesting, for the picture which it gives of Chaucer himself; riding apart from and indifferent to the rest of the pilgrims, with eyes fixed on the ground, and an "elvish", morose, or rather self-absorbed air; portly, if not actually stout, in body; and evidently a man out of the common, as the closing words of the Host imply.

2. Referring to the poet's corpulency.

THE TALE <1>

The First Fit* *part

Listen, lordings, in good intent, And I will tell you verrament* *truly Of mirth and of solas,* *delight, solace All of a knight was fair and gent,* *gentle In battle and in tournament, His name was Sir Thopas.

Y-born he was in far country, In Flanders, all beyond the sea, At Popering <2> in the place; His father was a man full free, And lord he was of that country, As it was G.o.dde's grace. <3>

Sir Thopas was a doughty swain, White was his face as paindemain, <4> His lippes red as rose.

His rode* is like scarlet in grain, *complexion And I you tell in good certain He had a seemly nose.

His hair, his beard, was like saffroun, That to his girdle reach'd adown, His shoes of cordewane:<5> Of Bruges were his hosen brown; His robe was of ciclatoun,<6> That coste many a jane.<7>

He coulde hunt at the wild deer, And ride on hawking *for rivere* *by the river*

With gray goshawk on hand: <8> Thereto he was a good archere, Of wrestling was there none his peer, Where any ram <9> should stand.

Full many a maiden bright in bow'r They mourned for him par amour, When them were better sleep; But he was chaste, and no lechour, And sweet as is the bramble flow'r That beareth the red heep.* *hip

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.

He p.r.i.c.ked through a fair forest, Wherein is many a wilde beast, Yea, bothe buck and hare; And as he p.r.i.c.ked north and east, I tell it you, him had almest *almost Betid* a sorry care. *befallen

There sprange herbes great and small, The liquorice and the setewall,* *valerian And many a clove-gilofre, <12> And nutemeg to put in ale, Whether it be moist* or stale, *new Or for to lay in coffer.

The birdes sang, it is no nay, The sperhawk* and the popinjay,** *sparrowhawk **parrot <13> That joy it was to hear; The throstle-c.o.c.k made eke his lay, The woode-dove upon the spray She sang full loud and clear.

Sir Thopas fell in love-longing All when he heard the throstle sing, And *p.r.i.c.k'd as he were wood;* *rode as if he His faire steed in his p.r.i.c.king were mad*

So sweated, that men might him wring, His sides were all blood.

Sir Thopas eke so weary was For p.r.i.c.king on the softe gra.s.s, So fierce was his corage,* *inclination, spirit That down he laid him in that place, To make his steed some solace, And gave him good forage.

"Ah, Saint Mary, ben'dicite, What aileth thilke* love at me *this To binde me so sore?

Me dreamed all this night, pardie, An elf-queen shall my leman* be, *mistress And sleep under my gore.* *s.h.i.+rt

An elf-queen will I love, y-wis,* *a.s.suredly For in this world no woman is Worthy to be my make* *mate In town; All other women I forsake, And to an elf-queen I me take By dale and eke by down." <14>

Into his saddle he clomb anon, And p.r.i.c.ked over stile and stone An elf-queen for to spy, Till he so long had ridden and gone, That he found in a privy wonne* *haunt The country of Faery, So wild; For in that country was there none That to him durste ride or gon, Neither wife nor child.

Till that there came a great giaunt, His name was Sir Oliphaunt,<15> A perilous man of deed; He saide, "Child,* by Termagaunt, <16> *young man *But if* thou p.r.i.c.k out of mine haunt, *unless Anon I slay thy steed With mace.

Here is the Queen of Faery, With harp, and pipe, and symphony, Dwelling in this place."

The Child said, "All so may I the,* *thrive To-morrow will I meete thee, When I have mine armor; And yet I hope, *par ma fay,* *by my faith*

That thou shalt with this launcegay Abyen* it full sore; *suffer for Thy maw* *belly Shall I pierce, if I may, Ere it be fully prime of day, For here thou shalt be slaw."* *slain

Sir Thopas drew aback full fast; This giant at him stones cast Out of a fell staff sling: But fair escaped Child Thopas, And all it was through G.o.dde's grace, And through his fair bearing. <17>

Yet listen, lordings, to my tale, Merrier than the nightingale, For now I will you rown,* *whisper How Sir Thopas, with sides smale,* *small <18> p.r.i.c.king over hill and dale, Is come again to town.

His merry men commanded he To make him both game and glee; For needes must he fight With a giant with heades three, For paramour and jollity Of one that shone full bright.

"*Do come,*" he saide, "my minstrales *summon*

And gestours* for to telle tales. *story-tellers Anon in mine arming, Of romances that be royales, <19> Of popes and of cardinales, And eke of love-longing."

They fetch'd him first the sweete wine, And mead eke in a maseline,* *drinking-bowl And royal spicery; of maple wood <20> Of ginger-bread that was full fine, And liquorice and eke c.u.min, With sugar that is trie.* *refined

He didde,* next his white lere,** *put on **skin Of cloth of lake* fine and clear, *fine linen A breech and eke a s.h.i.+rt; And next his s.h.i.+rt an haketon,* *ca.s.sock And over that an habergeon,* *coat of mail For piercing of his heart;

And over that a fine hauberk,* *plate-armour Was all y-wrought of Jewes'* werk, *magicians'

Full strong it was of plate; And over that his coat-armour,* *knight's surcoat As white as is the lily flow'r, <21> In which he would debate.* *fight

His s.h.i.+eld was all of gold so red And therein was a boare's head, A charboucle* beside; *carbuncle <22> And there he swore on ale and bread, How that the giant should be dead, Betide whatso betide.

His jambeaux* were of cuirbouly, <23> *boots His sworde's sheath of ivory, His helm of latoun* bright, *bra.s.s His saddle was of rewel <24> bone, His bridle as the sunne shone, Or as the moonelight.

His speare was of fine cypress, That bodeth war, and nothing peace; The head full sharp y-ground.

His steede was all dapple gray, It went an amble in the way Full softely and round In land.

Lo, Lordes mine, here is a fytt; If ye will any more of it, To tell it will I fand.* *try

The Second Fit

Now hold your mouth for charity, Bothe knight and lady free, And hearken to my spell;* *tale <25> Of battle and of chivalry, Of ladies' love and druerie,* *gallantry Anon I will you tell.

Men speak of romances of price* * worth, esteem Of Horn Child, and of Ipotis, Of Bevis, and Sir Guy, <26> Of Sir Libeux, <27> and Pleindamour, But Sir Thopas, he bears the flow'r Of royal chivalry.

His goode steed he all bestrode, And forth upon his way he glode,* *shone As sparkle out of brand;* *torch Upon his crest he bare a tow'r, And therein stick'd a lily flow'r; <28> G.o.d s.h.i.+eld his corse* from shand!** *body **harm

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The Canterbury Tales, and Other Poems Part 58 summary

You're reading The Canterbury Tales, and Other Poems. This manga has been translated by Updating. Author(s): Geoffrey Chaucer. Already has 469 views.

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