Whan that the Knyght had thus his tale ytoold,
Now when the knight had thus his story told,
In al the route ne was ther yong ne oold
In all the rout there was nor young nor old
That he ne seyde it was a noble storie,
But said it was a noble story, well
And worthy for to drawen to memorie;
Worthy to be kept in mind to tell;
And namely the gentils everichon.
And specially the gentle folk, each one.
Oure Hooste lough, and swoor, So moot I gon,
Our host, he laughed and swore, So may I run,
This gooth aright, unbokeled is the male,
But this goes well; unbuckled is the mail;
Lat se now who shal telle another tale,
Let's see now who can tell another tale:
For trewely the game is wel bigonne.
For certainly the game is well begun.
Now telleth on, sir Monk, if that ye konne
Now shall you tell, sir monk, if't can be done,
Somwhat to quite with the Knyghtes tale.
Something with which to pay for the knight's tale.
The Miller that for-dronken was al pale,
The miller, who with drinking was all pale,
So that unnethe upon his hors he sat,
So that unsteadily on his horse he sat,
He nolde avalen neither hood ne hat,
He would not take off either hood or hat,
Ne abyde no man for his curteisie,
Nor wait for any man, in courtesy,
But in Pilates voys he gan to crie,
But all in Pilate's voice began to cry,
And swoor by armes and by blood and bones,
And by the Arms and Blood and Bones he swore,
I kan a noble tale for the nones,
I have a noble story in my store,
With which I wol now quite the Knyghtes tale.
With which I will requite the good knight's tale.
Oure Hooste saugh that he was dronke of ale,
Our host saw, then, that he was drunk with ale,
And seyde, Abyd, Robyn, my leeve brother,
And said to him: Wait, Robin, my dear brother,
Som bettre man shal telle us first another,
Some better man shall tell us first another:
Abyd, and lat us werken thriftily.
Submit and let us work on profitably.
By Goddes soule, quod he, that wol nat I,
Now by God's soul, cried he, that will not I!
For I wol speke, or elles go my wey.
For I will speak, or else I'll go my way.
Oure Hoost answerde, Tel on, a devele wey!
Our host replied: Tell on, then, till doomsday!
Thou art a fool, thy wit is overcome!
You are a fool, your wit is overcome.
Now herkneth, quod the Miller, alle and some,
Now hear me, said the miller, all and some!
But first I make a protestacioun
But first I make a protestation round
That I am dronke, I knowe it by my soun;
That I'm quite drunk, I know it by my sound:
And therfore, if that I mysspeke or seye,
And therefore, if I slander or mis-say,
Wyte it the ale of Southwerk I you preye.
Blame it on ale of Southwark, so I pray;
For I wol telle a legende and a lyf
For I will tell a legend and a life
Bothe of a carpenter and of his wyf,
Both of a carpenter and of his wife,
How that a clerk hath set the wrightes cappe.
And how a scholar set the good wright's cap.
The Rev answerde and seyde, Stynt thy clappe,
The reeve replied and said: Oh, shut your trap,
Lat be thy lewed dronken harlotrye,
Let be your ignorant drunken ribaldry!
It is a synne and eek a greet folye
It is a sin, and further, great folly
To apeyren any man or hym defame,
To asperse any man, or him defame,
And eek to bryngen wyves in swich fame;
And, too, to bring upon a man's wife shame.
Thou mayst ynogh of othere thynges seyn.
There are enough of other things to say.
This dronke Miller spak ful soone ageyn,
This drunken miller spoke on in his way,
And seyde, Leve brother Osewold,
And said: Oh, but my dear brother Oswald,
Who hath no wyf, he is no cokewold.
The man who has no wife is no cuckold.
But I sey nat therfore that thou art oon,
But I say not, thereby, that you are one:
Ther been ful goode wyves many oon,
Many good wives there are, as women run,
And evere a thousand goode ayeyns oon badde;
And ever a thousand good to one that's bad,
That knowestow wel thyself, but if thou madde.
As well you know yourself, unless you're mad.
Why artow angry with my tale now?
Why are you angry with my story's cue?
I have a wyf, pardee, as wel as thow,
I have a wife, begad, as well as you,
Yet nolde I for the oxen in my plogh
Yet I'd not, for the oxen of my plow,
Take upon me moore than ynogh,
Take on my shoulders more than is enow,
As demen of myself that I were oon;
By judging of myself that I am one;
I wol bileve wel, that I am noon.
I will believe full well that I am none.
An housbonde shal nat been inquisityf
A husband must not be inquisitive
Of Goddes pryvetee, nor of his wyf.
Of God, nor of his wife, while she's alive.
So he may fynde Goddes foysoun there,
So long as he may find God's plenty there,
Of the remenant nedeth nat enquere.
For all the rest he need not greatly care.
What sholde I moore seyn, but this Miller
What should I say, except this miller rare
He nolde his wordes for no man forbere,
He would forgo his talk for no man there,
But tolde his cherles tale in his manere;
But told his churlish tale in his own way:
Me thynketh that I shal reherce it heere.
I think I'll here re-tell it, if I may.
And therfore every gentil wight I preye,
And therefore, every gentle soul, I pray
For Goddes love, demeth nat that I seye
That for God's love you'll hold not what I say
Of yvel entente, but that I moot reherce
Evilly meant, but that I must rehearse,
Hir tales alle, be they bettre or werse,
All of their tales, the better and the worse,
Or elles falsen som of my mateere.
Or else prove false to some of my design.
And therfore who-so list it nat yheere,
Therefore, who likes not this, let him, in fine,
Turne over the leef, and chese another tale;
Turn over page and choose another tale:
For he shal fynde ynowe, grete and smale,
For he shall find enough, both great and small,
Of storial thyng that toucheth gentillesse,
Of stories touching on gentility,
And eek moralitee, and hoolynesse.
And holiness, and on morality;
Blameth nat me if that ye chese amys;
And blame not me if you do choose amiss.
The Miller is a cherl, ye knowe wel this,
The miller was a churl, you well know this;
So was the Reve, and othere manye mo,
So was the reeve, and many another more,
And harlotrie they tolden bothe two.
And ribaldry they told from plenteous store.
Avyseth yow, and put me out of blame,
Be then advised, and hold me free from blame;
And eek men shal nat maken ernest of game.
Men should not be too serious at a game.
Whilom ther was dwellynge at oxenford
Once on a time was dwelling in Oxford
A riche gnof, that gestes heeld to bord,
A wealthy lout who took in guests to board,
And of his craft he was a carpenter.
And of his craft he was a carpenter.
With hym ther was dwellynge a poure scoler,
A poor scholar was lodging with him there,
Hadde lerned art, but al his fantasye
Who'd learned the arts, but all his phantasy
Was turned for to lerne astrologye,
Was turned to study of astrology;
And koude a certeyn of conclusiouns,
And knew a certain set of theorems
To demen by interrogaciouns,
And could find out by various stratagems,
If that men asked hym in certein houres
If men but asked of him in certain hours
Whan that men sholde have droghte or elles shoures,
When they should have a drought or else have showers,
Or if men asked hym what sholde bifalle
Or if men asked of him what should befall
Of every thyng; I may nat rekene hem alle.
To anything- I cannot reckon them all.
This clerk was cleped hende nicholas.
This clerk was called the clever Nicholas;
Of deerne love he koude and of solas;
Of secret loves he knew and their solace;
And therto he was sleigh and ful privee,
And he kept counsel, too, for he was sly
And lyk a mayden meke for to see.
And meek as any maiden passing by.
A chambre hadde he in that hostelrye
He had a chamber in that hostelry,
Allone, withouten any compaignye,
And lived alone there, without company,
Ful fetisly ydight with herbes swoote;
All garnished with sweet herbs of good repute;
And he hymself as sweete as is the roote
And he himself sweet-smelling as the root
Of lycorys, or any cetewale.
Of licorice, valerian, or setwall.
His almageste, and bookes grete and smale,
His Almagest, and books both great and small,
His astrelabie, longynge for his art,
His astrolabe, belonging to his art,
His augrym stones layen faire apart,
His algorism stones- all laid apart
On shelves couched at his beddes heed;
On shelves that ranged beside his lone bed's head;
His presse ycovered with a faldyng reed;
His press was covered with a cloth of red.
And al above ther lay a gay sautrie,
And over all there lay a psaltery
On which he made a-nyghtes melodie
Whereon he made an evening's melody,
So swetely that all the chambre rong;
Playing so sweetly that the chamber rang;
And angelus ad virginem he song;
And Angelus ad virginem he sang;
And after that he song the kynges noote.
And after that he warbled the King's Note:
Ful often blessed was his myrie throte.
Often in good voice was his merry throat.
And thus this sweete clerk his tyme spente
And thus this gentle clerk his leisure spends
After his freendes fyndyng and his rente.
Supported by some income and his friends.
This carpenter hadde wedded newe a wyf,
This carpenter had lately wed a wife
Which that he lovede moore than his lyf;
Whom lie loved better than he loved his life;
Of eighteteene yeer she was of age.
And she was come to eighteen years of age.
Jalous he was, and heeld hire narwe in cage,
Jealous he was and held her close in cage.
For she was wylde and yong, and he was old,
For she was wild and young, and he was old,
And demed hymself been lik a cokewold.
And deemed himself as like to be cuckold.
He knew nat catoun, for his wit was rude,
He knew not Cato, for his lore was rude:
That bad man sholde wedde his simylitude.
That vulgar man should wed similitude.
Men sholde wedden after hire estaat,
A man should wed according to estate,
For youthe and elde is often at debaat.
For youth and age are often in debate.
But sith that he was fallen in the snare,
But now, since he had fallen in the snare,
He moste endure, as oother folk, his care.
He must endure, like other folk, his care.
Fair was this yonge wyf, and therwithal
Fair was this youthful wife, and therewithal
As any wezele hir body gent and smal.
As weasel's was her body slim and small.
A ceynt she werede, barred al of silk,
A girdle wore she, barred and striped, of silk.
A barmclooth eek as whit as morne milk
An apron, too, as white as morning milk
Upon hir lendes, ful of many a goore.
About her loins, and full of many a gore;
Whit was hir smok, and broyden al bifoore
White was her smock, embroidered all before
And eek bihynde, on hir coler aboute,
And even behind, her collar round about,
Of col-blak silk, withinne and eek withoute.
Of coal-black silk, on both sides, in and out;
The tapes of hir white voluper
The strings of the white cap upon her head
Were of the same suyte of hir coler;
Were, like her collar, black silk worked with thread,
Hir filet brood of silk, and set ful hye.
Her fillet was of wide silk worn full high:
And sikerly she hadde a likerous ye;
And certainly she had a lickerish eye.
Ful smale ypulled were hire browes two,
She'd thinned out carefully her eyebrows two,
And tho were bent and blake as any sloo.
And they were arched and black as any sloe.
She was ful moore blisful on to see
She was a far more pleasant thing to see
Than is the newe pere-jonette tree,
Than is the newly budded young pear-tree;
And softer than the wolle is of a wether.
And softer than the wool is on a wether.
And by hir girdel heeng a purs of lether,
Down from her girdle hung a purse of leather,
Tasseled with silk, and perled with latoun.
Tasselled with silk, with latten beading sown.
In al this world, to seken up and doun,
In all this world, searching it up and down,
There nys no man so wys that koude thenche
So gay a little doll, I well believe,
So gay a popelote or swich a wenche.
Or such a wench, there's no man can conceive.
Ful brighter was the shynyng of hir hewe
Far brighter was the brilliance of her hue
Than in the tour the noble yforged newe.
Than in the Tower the gold coins minted new.
But of hir song, it was as loude and yerne
And songs came shrilling from her pretty head
As any swalwe sittynge on a berne.
As from a swallow's sitting on a shed.
Therto she koude skippe and make game,
Therewith she'd dance too, and could play and sham
As any kyde or calf folwynge his dame.
Like any kid or calf about its dam.
Hir mouth was sweete as bragot or the meeth,
Her mouth was sweet as bragget or as mead
Or hoord of apples leyd in hey or heeth.
Or hoard of apples laid in hay or weed.
Wynsynge she was, as is a joly colt,
Skittish she was as is a pretty colt,
Long as a mast, and upright as a bolt.
Tall as a staff and straight as cross-bow bolt.
A brooch she baar upon hir lowe coler,
A brooch she wore upon her collar low,
As brood as is the boos of a bokeler.
As broad as boss of buckler did it show;
Hir shoes were laced on hir legges hye.
Her shoes laced up to where a girl's legs thicken.
She was a prymerole, a piggesnye,
She was a primrose, and a tender chicken
For any lord to leggen in his bedde,
For any lord to lay upon his bed,
Or yet for any good yeman to wedde.
Or yet for any good yeoman to wed.
Now, sire, and eft, sire, so bifel the cas,
Now, sir, and then, sir, go befell the case,
That on a day this hende nicholas
That on a day this clever Nicholas
Fil with this yonge wyf to rage and pleye,
Fell in with this young wife to toy and play,
Whil that hir housbonde was at oseneye,
The while her husband was down Osney way,
As clerkes ben ful subtile and ful queynte;
Clerks being as crafty as the best of us;
And prively he caughte hire by the queynte,
And unperceived he caught her by the puss,
And seyde, ywis, but if ich have my wille,
Saying: Indeed, unless I have my will,
For deerne love of thee, lemman, I spille.
For secret love of you, sweetheart, I'll spill.
And heeld hire harde by the haunchebones,
And held her hard about the hips, and how!
And seyde, lemman, love me al atones,
And said: O darling, love me, love me now,
Or I wol dyen, also God me save!
Or I shall die, and pray you God may save!
And she sproong as a colt dooth in the trave,
And she leaped as a colt does in the trave,
And with hir heed she wryed faste awey,
And with her head she twisted fast away,
And seyde, I wol nat kisse thee, by my fey!
And said: I will not kiss you, by my fay!
Why, lat be, quod she, lat be, nicholas,
Why, let go, cried she, let go, Nicholas!
Or I wol crie -- out, harrow -- and -- allas! --
Or I will call for help and cry 'alas!'
Do wey youre handes, for youre curteisye!
Do take your hands away, for courtesy!
This nicholas gan mercy for to crye,
This Nicholas for mercy then did cry,
And spak so faire, and profred him so faste,
And spoke so well, importuned her so fast
That she hir love hym graunted atte laste,
That she her love did grant him at the last,
And swoor hir ooth, by seint thomas of kent,
And swore her oath, by Saint Thomas of Kent,
That she wol been at his comandement,
That she would be at his command, content,
Whan that she may hir leyser wel espie.
As soon as opportunity she could spy.
Myn housbonde is so ful of jalousie
My husband is so full of jealousy,
That but ye wayte wel and been privee,
Unless you will await me secretly,
I woot right wel I nam but deed, quod she.
I know I'm just as good as dead, said she.
Ye moste been ful deerne, as in this cas.
You must keep all quite hidden in this case.
Nay, therof care thee noght, quod nicholas.
Nay, thereof worry not, said Nicholas,
A clerk hadde litherly biset his whyle,
A clerk has lazily employed his while
But if he koude a carpenter bigyle.
If he cannot a carpenter beguile.
And thus they been accorded and ysworn
And thus they were agreed, and then they swore
To wayte a tyme, as I have told biforn.
To wait a while, as I have said before.
Whan nicholas had doon thus everideel,
When Nicholas had done thus every whit
And thakked hire aboute the lendes weel,
And patted her about the loins a bit,
He kiste hire sweete and taketh his sawtrie,
He kissed her sweetly, took his psaltery,
And pleyeth faste, and maketh melodie.
And played it fast and made a melody.
Thanne fil it thus, that to the paryssh chirche,
Then fell it thus, that to the parish kirk,
Cristes owene werkes for to wirche,
The Lord Christ Jesus' own works for to work,
This goode wyf went on an haliday.
This good wife went, upon a holy day;
Hir forheed shoon as bright as any day,
Her forehead shone as bright as does the May,
So was it wasshen whan she leet hir werk.
So well she'd washed it when she left off work.
Now was ther of that chirche a parissh clerk,
Now there was of that church a parish clerk
The which that was ycleped absolon.
Whose name was (as folk called him) Absalom.
Crul was his heer, and as the gold it shoon,
Curled was his hair, shining like gold, and from
And strouted as a fanne large and brode;
His head spread fanwise in a thick bright mop;
Ful streight and evene lay his joly shode.
'Twas parted straight and even on the top;
His rode was reed, his eyen greye as goos.
His cheek was red, his eyes grey as a goose;
With poules wyndow corven on his shoos,
With Saint Paul's windows cut upon his shoes,
In hoses rede he wente fetisly.
He stood in red hose fitting famously.
Yclad he was ful smal and proprely
And he was clothed full well and properly
Al in a kirtel of a lyght waget;
All in a coat of blue, in which were let
Ful faire and thikke been the poyntes set.
Holes for the lacings, which were fairly set.
And therupon he hadde a gay surplys
And over all he wore a fine surplice
As whit as is the blosme upon the rys.
As white as ever hawthorn spray, and nice.
A myrie child he was, so God me save.
A merry lad he was, so God me save,
Wel koude he laten blood and clippe and shave,
And well could he let blood, cut hair, and shave,
And maken a chartre of lond or acquitaunce.
And draw a deed or quitclaim, as might chance.
In twenty manere koude he trippe and daunce
In twenty manners could he trip and dance,
After the scole of oxenforde tho,
After the school that reigned in Oxford, though,
And with his legges casten to and fro,
And with his two legs swinging to and fro;
And pleyen songes on a smal rubible;
And he could play upon a violin;
Therto he song som tyme a loud quynyble;
Thereto he sang in treble voice and thin;
And as wel koude he pleye on a giterne.
And as well could he play on his guitar.
In al the toun nas brewhous ne taverne
In all the town no inn was, and no bar,
That he ne visited with his solas,
That he'd not visited to make good cheer,
Ther any gaylard tappestere was.
Especially were lively barmaids there.
But sooth to seyn, he was somdeel squaymous
But, truth to tell, he was a bit squeamish
Of fartyng, and of speche daungerous.
Of farting and of language haughtyish.
This absolon, that jolif was and gay,
This Absalom, who was so light and gay,
Gooth with a sencer on the haliday,
Went with a censer on the holy day,
Sensynge the wyves of the parisshe faste;
Censing the wives like an enthusiast;
And many a lovely look on hem he caste,
And on them many a loving look he cast,
And namely on this carpenteris wyf.
Especially on this carpenter's goodwife.
To looke on hire hym thoughte a myrie lyf,
To look at her he thought a merry life,
She was so propre and sweete and likerous.
She was so pretty, sweet, and lickerous.
I dar wel seyn, if she hadde been a mous,
I dare well say, if she had been a mouse
And he a cat, he wolde hire hente anon.
And he a cat, he would have mauled her some.
This parissh clerk, this joly absolon,
This parish clerk, this lively Absalom
Hath in his herte swich a love-longynge
Had in his heart, now, such a love-longing
That of no wyf took he noon offrynge;
That from no wife took he an offering;
For curteisie, he seyde, he wolde noon.
For courtesy, he said, he would take none.
The moone, whan it was nyght, ful brighte shoon,
The moon, when it was night, full brightly shone,
And absolon his gyterne hath ytake,
And his guitar did Absalom then take,
For paramours he thoghte for to wake.
For in love-watching he'd intent to wake.
And forth he gooth, jolif and amorous,
And forth he went, jolly and amorous,
Til he cam to the carpenteres hous
Until he came unto the carpenter's house
A litel after cokkes hadde ycrowe,
A little after cocks began to crow;
And dressed hym up by a shot-wyndowe
And took his stand beneath a shot-window
That was upon the carpenteris wal.
That was let into the good wood-wright's wall.
He syngeth in his voys gentil and smal,
He sang then, in his pleasant voice and small,
Now, deere lady, if thy wille be,
Oh now, dear lady, if your will it be,
I praye yow that ye wole rewe on me,
I pray that you will have some ruth on me,
Ful wel acordaunt to his gyternynge.
The words in harmony with his string-plucking.
This carpenter awook, and herde him synge,
This carpenter awoke and heard him sing,
And spak unto his wyf, and seyde anon,
And called unto his wife and said, in sum:
What! alison! herestow nat absolon,
What, Alison! Do you hear Absalom,
That chaunteth thus under oure boures wal?
Who plays and sings beneath our bedroom wall?
And she answerde hir housbonde therwithal,
And she said to her husband, therewithal:
Yis, God woot, john, I heere it every deel.
Yes, God knows, John, I hear it, truth to tell.
This passeth forth; what wol ye bet than weel?
So this went on; what is there better than well?
Fro day to day this joly absolon
From day to day this pretty Absalom
So woweth hire that hym is wo bigon.
So wooed her he was woebegone therefrom.
He waketh al the nyght and al the day;
He lay awake all night and all the day;
He kembeth his lokkes brode, and made hym gay;
He combed his spreading hair and dressed him gay;
He woweth hire by meenes and brocage,
By go-betweens and agents, too, wooed he,
And swoor he wolde been hir owene page;
And swore her loyal page he'd ever be.
He syngeth, brokkynge as a nyghtyngale;
He sang as tremulously as nightingale;
He sente hire pyment, meeth, and spiced ale,
He sent her sweetened wine and well-spiced ale
And wafres, pipyng hoot out of the gleede;
And waffles piping hot out of the fire,
And, for she was of town, he profred meede.
And, she being town-bred, mead for her desire.
For som folk wol ben wonnen for richesse,
For some are won by means of money spent,
And somme for strokes, and somme for gentillesse.
And some by tricks, and some by long descent.
Somtyme, to shewe his lightnesse and maistrye,
Once, to display his versatility,
He pleyeth herodes upon a scaffold hye.
He acted Herod on a scaffold high.
But what availleth hym as in this cas?
But what availed it him in any case?
She loveth so this hende nicholas
She was enamoured so of Nicholas
That absolon may blowe the bukkes horn;
That Absalom might go and blow his horn;
He ne hadde for his labour but a scorn.
He got naught for his labour but her scorn.
And thus she maketh absolon hire ape,
And thus she made of Absalom her ape,
And al his ernest turneth til a jape.
And all his earnestness she made a jape.
Ful sooth is this proverbe, it is no lye,
For truth is in this proverb, and no lie,
Men seyn right thus, alwey the nye slye
Men say well thus: It's always he that's nigh
Maketh the ferre leeve to be looth.
That makes the absent lover seem a sloth.
For though that absolon be wood or wrooth,
For now, though Absalom be wildly wroth,
By cause that he fer was from hire sight,
Because he is so far out of her sight,
This nye nicholas stood in his light.
This handy Nicholas stands in his light.
Now ber thee wel, thou hende nicholas,
Now bear you well, you clever Nicholas!
For absolon may waille and synge allas.
For Absalom may wail and sing Alas!
And so bifel it on a saterday,
And so it chanced that on a Saturday
This carpenter was goon til osenay;
This carpenter departed to. Osney;
And hende nicholas and alisoun
And clever Nicholas and Alison
Acorded been to this conclusioun,
Were well agreed to this effect: anon
That nicholas shal shapen hym a wyle
This Nicholas should put in play a wile
This sely jalous housbonde to bigyle;
The simple, jealous husband to beguile;
And if so be the game wente aright,
And if it chanced the game should go a-right,
She sholde slepen in his arm al nyght,
She was to sleep within his arms all night,
For this was his desir and hire also.
For this was his desire, and hers also.
And right anon, withouten wordes mo,
Presently then, and without more ado,
This nicholas no lenger wolde tarie,
This Nicholas, no longer did he tarry,
But dooth ful softe unto his chambre carie
But softly to his chamber did he carry
Bothe mete and drynke for a day or tweye,
Both food and drink to last at least a day,
And to hire housbonde bad hire for to seye,
Saying that to her husband she should say-
If that he axed after nicholas,
If he should come to ask for Nicholas-
She sholde seye she nyste where he was,
Why, she should say she knew not where he was,
Of al that day she saugh hym nat with ye;
For all day she'd not seen him, far or nigh;
She trowed that he was in maladye,
She thought he must have got some malady,
For for no cry hir mayde koude hym calle,
Because in vain her maid would knock and call;
He nolde answere for thyng that myghte falle.
He'd answer not, whatever might befall.
This passeth forth al thilke saterday,
And so it was that all that Saturday
That nicholas stille in his chambre lay,
This Nicholas quietly in chamber lay,
And eet and sleep, or dide what hym leste,
And ate and slept, or did what pleased him best,
Til sonday, that the sonne gooth to reste.
Till Sunday when the sun had gone to rest.
This sely carpenter hath greet merveyle
This simple man with wonder heard the tale,
Of nicholas, or what thyng myghte hym eyle,
And marvelled what their Nicholas might ail,
And seyde, I am adrad, by seint thomas,
And said: I am afraid, by Saint Thomas,
It stondeth nat aright with nicholas.
That everything's not well with Nicholas.
God shilde that he deyde sodeynly!
God send he be not dead so suddenly!
This world is now ful tikel, sikerly.
This world is most unstable, certainly;
I saugh to-day a cors yborn to chirche
I saw, today, the corpse being borne to kirk
That now, on monday last, I saugh hym wirche.
Of one who, but last Monday, was at work.
Go up, quod he unto his knave anoon,
Go up, said he unto his boy anon,
Clepe at his dore, or knokke with a stoon.
Call at his door, or knock there with a stone,
Looke how it is, and tel me boldely.
Learn how it is and boldly come tell me.
This knave gooth hym up ful sturdily,
The servant went up, then, right sturdily,
And at the chambre dore whil that he stood,
And at the chamber door, the while he stood,
He cride and knokked as that he were wood,
He cried and knocked as any madman would-
What! how! what do ye, maister nicholay?
What! How! What do you, Master Nicholay?
How may ye slepen al the longe day?
How can you sleep through all the livelong day?
But al for noght, he herde nat a word.
But all for naught, he never heard a word;
An hole he foond, ful lowe upon a bord,
A hole he found, low down upon a board,
Ther as the cat was wont in for to crepe,
Through which the house cat had been wont to creep;
And at that hole he looked in ful depe,
And to that hole he stooped, and through did peep,
And at the laste he hadde of hym a sight.
And finally he ranged him in his sight.
This nicholas sat evere capyng upright,
This Nicholas sat gaping there, upright,
As he had kiked on the newe moone.
As if he'd looked too long at the new moon.
Adoun he gooth, and tolde his maister soone
Downstairs he went and told his master soon
In what array he saugh this ilke man.
In what array he'd found this self-same man.
This carpenter to blessen hym bigan,
This carpenter to cross himself began,
And seyde, help us, seinte frydeswyde!
And said: Now help us, holy Frideswide!
A man woot litel what hym shal bityde.
Little a man can know what shall betide.
This man is falle, with his astromye,
This man is fallen, with his astromy,
In some woodnesse or in som agonye.
Into some madness or some agony;
I thoghte ay wel how that it sholde be!
I always feared that somehow this would be!
Men sholde nat knowe of goddes pryvetee.
Men should not meddle in God's privity.
Ye, blessed be alwey a lewed man
Aye, blessed always be the ignorant man,
That noght but oonly his bileve kan!
Whose creed is, all he ever has to scan!
So ferde another clerk with astromye;
So fared another clerk with astromy;
He walked in the feeldes, for to prye
He walked into the meadows for to pry
Upon the sterres, what ther sholde bifalle,
Into the stars, to learn what should befall,
Til he was in a marle-pit yfalle;
Until into a clay-pit he did fall;
He saugh nat that. But yet, by seint thomas,
He saw not that. But yet, by Saint Thomas,
Me reweth soore of hende nicholas.
I'm sorry for this clever Nicholas.
He shal be rated of his studiyng,
He shall be scolded for his studying,
If that I may, by jhesus, hevene kyng!
If not too late, by Jesus, Heaven's King!
Get me a staf, that I may underspore,
Get me a staff, that I may pry before,
Whil that thou, robyn, hevest up the dore.
The while you, Robin, heave against the door.
He shal out of his studiyng, as I gesse --
We'll take him from this studying, I guess.
And to the chambre dore he gan hym dresse.
And on the chamber door, then, he did press.
His knave was a strong carl for the nones,
His servant was a stout lad, if a dunce,
And by the haspe he haaf it of atones;
And by the hasp he heaved it up at once;
Into the floor the dore fil anon.
Upon the floor that portal fell anon.
This nicholas sat ay as stille as stoon,
This Nicholas sat there as still as stone,
And evere caped upward into the eir.
Gazing, with gaping mouth, straight up in air.
This carpenter wende he were in despeir,
This carpenter thought he was in despair,
And hente hym by the sholdres myghtily,
And took him by the shoulders, mightily,
And shook hym harde, and cride spitously,
And shook him hard, and cried out, vehemently:
What! nicholay! what, how! what, looke adoun!
What! Nicholay! Why how now! Come, look down!
Awak, and thenk on cristes passioun!
Awake, and think on Jesus' death and crown!
I crouche thee from elves and fro wightes.
I cross you from all elves and magic wights!
Therwith the nyght-spel seyde he anon-rightes
And then the night-spell said he out, by rights,
On foure halves of the hous aboute,
At the four corners of the house about,
And on the thresshfold of the dore withoute
And at the threshold of the door, without:-
Jhesu crist and seinte benedight,
O Jesus Christ and good Saint Benedict,
Blesse this hous from every wikked wight,
Protect this house from all that may afflict,
For nyghtes verye, the white pater-noster!
For the night hag the white Paternoster!-
Where wentestow, seinte petres soster?
Where hast thou gone, Saint Peter's sister?
And atte laste this hende nicholas
And at the last this clever Nicholas
Gan for to sik soore, and seyde, allas!
Began to sigh full sore, and said: Alas!
Shal al the world be lost aftsoones now?
Shall all the world be lost so soon again?
This carpenter answerde, what seystow?
This carpenter replied: What say you, then?
What! thynk on god, as we doon, men that swynke.
What! Think on God, as we do, men that swink.
This nicholas answerde, fecche me drynke,
This Nicholas replied: Go fetch me drink;
And after wol I speke in pryvetee
And afterward I'll tell you privately
Of certeyn thyng that toucheth me and thee.
A certain thing concerning you and me;
I wol telle it noon oother man, certeyn.
I'll tell it to no other man or men.
This carpenter goth doun, and comth ageyn,
This carpenter went down and came again,
And broghte of myghty ale a large quart;
And brought of potent ale a brimming quart;
And whan that ech of hem had dronke his part,
And when each one of them had drunk his part,
This nicholas his dore faste shette,
Nicholas shut the door fast, and with that
And doun the carpenter by hym he sette.
He drew a seat and near the carpenter sat.
He seyde john, myn hooste, lief and deere,
He said: Now, John, my good host, lief and dear,
Thou shalt upon thy trouthe swere me heere
You must upon your true faith swear, right here,
That to no wight thou shalt this conseil wreye;
That to no man will you this word betray;
For it is cristes conseil that I seye,
For it is Christ's own word that I will say,
And if thou telle it man, thou art forlore;
And if you tell a man, you're ruined quite;
For this vengeaunce thou shalt han therfore,
This punishment shall come to you, of right,
That if thou wreye me, thou shalt be wood.
That if you're traitor you'll go mad- and should!
Nay, crist forbede it, for his hooly blood!
Nay, Christ forbid it, for His holy blood!
Quod tho this sely man, I nam no labbe;
Said then this simple man: I am no blab,
Ne, though I seye, I nam nat lief to gabbe.
Nor, though I say it, am I fond of gab.
Sey what thou wolt, I shal it nevere telle
Say what you will, I never will it tell
To child ne wyf, by hym that harwed helle!
To child or wife, by Him that harried Hell!
Now john, quod nicholas, I wol nat lye;
Now, John, said Nicholas, I will not lie;
I have yfounde in myn astrologye,
But I've found out, from my astrology,
As I have looked in the moone bright,
As I have looked upon the moon so bright,
That now a monday next, at quarter nyght,
That now, come Monday next, at nine of night,
Shal falle a reyn, and that so wilde and wood,
Shall fall a rain so wildly mad as would
That half so greet was nevere noes flood.
Have been, by half, greater than Noah's flood.
This world, he seyde, in lasse than an hour
This world, he said, in less time than an hour,
Shal al be dreynt, so hidous is the shour.
Shall all be drowned, so terrible is this shower;
Thus shal mankynde drenche, and lese hir lyf.
Thus shall all mankind drown and lose all life.
This carpenter answerde, allas, my wyf!
This carpenter replied: Alas, my wife!
And shal she drenche? allas, myn alisoun!
And shall she drown? Alas, my Alison!
For sorwe of this he fil almoost adoun,
For grief of this he almost fell. Anon
And seyde, is ther no remedie in this cas?
He said: Is there no remedy in this case?
Why, yis, for gode, quod hende nicholas,
Why yes, good luck, said clever Nicholas,
If thou wolt werken after loore and reed.
If you will work by counsel of the wise;
Thou mayst nat werken after thyn owene heed;
You must not act on what your wits advise.
For thus seith salomon, that was ful trewe,
For so says Solomon, and it's all true,
Werk al by conseil, and thou shalt nat rewe. --
'Work by advice and thou shalt never rue.'
And if thou werken wolt by good conseil,
And if you'll act as counselled and not fail,
I undertake, withouten mast and seyl,
I undertake, without a mast or sail,
Yet shal I saven hire and thee and me.
To save us all, aye you and her and me.
Hastow nat herd hou saved was noe,
Haven't you heard of, Noah, how saved was he,
Whan that oure lord hadde warned hym biforn
Because Our Lord had warned him how to keep
That al the world with water sholde be lorn?
Out of the flood that covered earth so deep?
Yis, quod this carpenter, ful yoore ago.
Yes, said this carpenter, long years ago.
Hastou nat herd, quod nicholas, also
Have you not heard, asked Nicholas, also
The sorwe of noe with his felaweshipe,
The sorrows of Noah and his fellowship
Er that he myghte gete his wyf to shipe?
In getting his wife to go aboard the ship?
Hym hadde be levere, I dar wel undertake
He would have rather, I dare undertake,
At thilke tyme, than alle his wetheres blake
At that time, and for all the weather black,
That she hadde had a ship hirself allone.
That she had one ship for herself alone.
And therfore, woostou what is best to doone?
Therefore, do you know what would best be done?
This asketh haste, and of an hastif thyng
This thing needs haste, and of a hasty thing
Men may nat preche or maken tariyng.
Men must not preach nor do long tarrying.
Anon go gete us faste into this in
Presently go, and fetch here to this inn
A knedyng trogh, or ellis a kymelyn,
A kneading-tub, or brewing vat, and win
For ech of us, but looke that they be large,
One each for us, but see that they are large,
In which we mowe swymme as in a barge,
Wherein we may swim out as in a barge,
And han therinne vitaille suffisant
And have therein sufficient food and drink
But for a day, -- fy on the remenant!
For one day only; that's enough, I think.
The water shal aslake and goon away
The water will dry up and flow away
Aboute pryme upon the nexte day.
About the prime of the succeeding day.
But robyn may nat wite of this, thy knave,
But Robin must not know of this, your knave,
Ne eek thy mayde gille I may nat save;
And even Jill, your maid, I may not save;
Axe nat why, for though thou aske me,
Ask me not why, for though you do ask me,
I wol nat tellen goddes pryvetee.
I will not tell you of God's privity.
Suffiseth thee, but if thy wittes madde,
Suffice you, then, unless your wits are mad,
To han as greet a grace as noe hadde.
To have as great a grace as Noah had.
Thy wyf shal I wel saven, out of doute.
Your wife I shall not lose, there is no doubt,
Go now thy wey, and speed thee heer-aboute.
Go, now, your way, and speedily about,
But whan thou hast, for hire and thee and me,
But when you have, for you and her and me,
Ygeten us thise knedyng tubbes thre,
Procured these kneading-tubs, or beer-vats, three,
Thanne shaltow hange hem in the roof ful hye,
Then you shall hang them near the roof-tree high,
That no man of oure purveiaunce spye.
That no man our purveyance may espy.
And whan thou thus hast doon, as I have seyd,
And when you thus have done, as I have said,
And hast oure vitaille faire in hem yleyd,
And have put in our drink and meat and bread,
And eek an ax, to smyte the corde atwo,
Also an axe to cut the ropes in two
Whan that the water comth, that we may go,
When the flood comes, that we may float and go,
And breke an hole an heigh, upon the gable,
And cut a hole, high up, upon the gable,
Unto the gardyn-ward, over the stable,
Upon the garden side, over the stable,
That we may frely passen forth oure way,
That we may freely pass forth on our way
Whan that the grete shour is goon away,
When the great rain and flood are gone that day-
Thanne shaltou swymme as myrie, I undertake,
Then shall you float as merrily, I'll stake,
As dooth the white doke after hire drake.
As does the white duck after the white drake.
Thanne wol I clepe, -- how, alison! how, john!
Then I will call, 'Ho, Alison! Ho, John!
Be myrie, for the flood wol passe anon. --
Be cheery, for the flood will pass anon.'
And thou wolt seyn, -- hayl, maister nicholay!
And you will say, 'Hail. Master Nicholay!
Good morwe, I se thee wel, for it is day. --
Good morrow, I see you well, for it is day!'
And thanne shul we be lordes al oure lyf
And then shall we be barons all our life
Of al the world, as noe and his wyf.
Of all the world, like Noah and his wife.
But of o thyng I warne thee ful right
But of one thing I warn you now, outright.
Be wel avysed on that ilke nyght
Be well advised, that on that very night
That we ben entred into shippes bord,
When we have reached our ships and got aboard,
That noon of us ne speke nat a word,
Not one of us must speak or whisper word,
Ne clepe, ne crie, but be in his preyere;
Nor call, nor cry, but sit in silent prayer;
For it is goddes owene heeste deere.
For this is God's own bidding, hence- don't dare!
Thy wyf and thou moote hange fer atwynne;
Your wife and you must hang apart, that in
For that bitwixe yow shal be no synne,
The night shall come no chance for you to sin
Namoore in lookyng than ther shal in deede,
Either in looking or in carnal deed.
This ordinance is seyd. Go, God thee speede!
These orders I have told you, go, God speed!
Tomorwe at nyght, whan men ben alle aslepe,
Tomorrow night, when all men are asleep,
Into oure knedyng-tubbes wol we crepe,
Into our kneading-tubs will we three creep
And sitten there, abidyng goddes grace.
And sit there, still, awaiting God's high grace.
Go now thy wey, I have no lenger space
Go, now, your way, I have no longer space
To make of this no lenger sermonyng.
Of time to make a longer sermoning.
Men seyn thus, -- sende the wise, and sey no thyng --
Men say thus: 'Send the wise and say no thing.'
Thou art so wys, it needeth thee nat teche.
You are so wise it needs not that I teach;
Go, save oure lyf, and that I the biseche.
Go, save our lives, and that I do beseech.
This sely carpenter goth forth his wey.
This silly carpenter went on his way.
Ful ofte he seide allas and weylawey,
Often he cried Alas! and Welaway!
And to his wyf he tolde his pryvetee,
And to his wife he told all, privately;
And she was war, and knew it bet than he,
But she was better taught thereof than he
What al this queynte cast was for to seye.
How all this rigmarole was to apply.
But nathelees she ferde as she wolde deye,
Nevertheless she acted as she'd die,
And seyde, allas! go forth thy wey anon,
And said: Alas! Go on your way anon,
Help us to scape, or we been dede echon!
Help us escape, or we are lost, each one;
I am thy trewe, verray wedded wyf;
I am your true and lawfully wedded wife;
Go, deere spouse, and help to save oure lyf.
Go, my dear spouse, and help to save our life.
Lo, which a greet thyng is affeccioun!
Lo, what a great thing is affection found!
Men may dyen of ymaginacioun,
Men die of imagination, I'll be bound,
So depe may impressioun be take.
So deep an imprint may the spirit take.
This sely carpenter bigynneth quake;
This hapless carpenter began to quake;
Hym thynketh verraily that he may see
He thought now, verily, that he could see
Noees flood come walwynge as the see
Old Noah's flood come wallowing like the sea
To drenchen alisoun, his hony deere.
To drown his Alison, his honey dear.
He wepeth, weyleth, maketh sory cheere;
He wept, he wailed, he made but sorry cheer,
He siketh with ful many a sory swogh;
He sighed and made full many a sob and sough.
He gooth and geteth hym a knedyng trogh,
He went and got himself a kneading-trough
And after that a tubbe and a kymelyn,
And, after that, two tubs he somewhere found
And pryvely he sente hem to his in,
And to his dwelling privately sent round,
And heng hem in the roof in pryvetee.
And hung them near the roof, all secretly.
His owene hand he made laddres thre,
With his own hand, then, made he ladders three,
To clymben by the ronges and the stalkes
To climb up by the rungs thereof, it seems,
Unto the tubbes hangynge in the balkes,
And reach the tubs left hanging to the beams;
And hem vitailled, bothe trogh and tubbe,
And those he victualled, tubs and kneading-trough,
With breed and chese, and good ale in a jubbe,
With bread and cheese and good jugged ale, enough
Suffisynge right ynogh as for a day.
To satisfy the needs of one full day.
But er that he hadde maad al this array,
But ere he'd put all this in such array,
He sente his knave, and eek his wenche also,
He sent his servants, boy and maid, right down
Upon his nede to london for to go.
Upon some errand into London town.
And on the monday, whan it drow to nyght,
And on the Monday, when it came on night,
He shette his dore withoute candel-lyght,
He shut his door, without a candle-light,
And dressed alle thyng as it sholde be.
And ordered everything as it should be.
And shortly, up they clomben alle thre;
And shortly after up they climbed, all three;
They seten stille wel a furlong way.
They sat while one might plow a furlong-way.
Now, pater-noster, clom! seyde nicholay,
Now, by Our Father, hush! said Nicholay,
And clom, quod john, and clom, seyde alisoun.
And Hush! said John, and Hush! said Alison.
This carpenter seyde his devocioun,
This carpenter, his loud devotions done,
And stille he sit, and biddeth his preyere,
Sat silent, saying mentally a prayer,
Awaitynge on the reyn, if he it heere.
And waiting for the rain, to hear it there.
The dede sleep, for wery bisynesse,
The deathlike sleep of utter weariness
Fil on this carpenter right, as I gesse,
Fell on this wood-wright even. (as I guess)
Aboute corfew-tyme, or litel moore;
About the curfew time, or little more;
For travaille of his goost he groneth soore,
For travail of his spirit he groaned sore,
And eft he routeth, for his heed myslay.
And soon he snored, for badly his head lay.
Doun of the laddre stalketh nicholay,
Down by the ladder crept this Nicholay,
And alisoun ful softe adoun she spedde;
And Alison, right softly down she sped.
Withouten wordes mo they goon to bedde,
Without more words they went and got in bed
Ther as the carpenter is wont to lye.
Even where the carpenter was wont to lie.
Ther was the revel and the melodye;
There was the revel and the melody!
And thus lith alison and nicholas,
And thus lie Alison and Nicholas,
In bisynesse of myrthe and of solas,
In joy that goes by many an alias,
Til that the belle of laudes gan to rynge,
Until the bells for lauds began to ring
And freres in the chaunsel gonne synge.
And friars to the chancel went to sing.
This parissh clerk, this amorous absolon,
This parish clerk, this amorous Absalom,
That is for love alwey so wo bigon,
Whom love has made so woebegone and dumb,
Upon the monday was at oseneye
Upon the Monday was down Osney way,
With compaignye, hym to disporte and pleye,
With company, to find some sport and play;
And axed upon cas a cloisterer
And there he chanced to ask a cloisterer,
Ful prively after john the carpenter;
Privately, after John the carpenter.
And he drough hym apart out of the chirche,
This monk drew him apart, out of the kirk,
And seyde, I noot, I saugh hym heere nat wirche
And said: I have not seen him here at work.
Syn saterday; I trowe that he be went
Since Saturday; I think well that he went
For tymber, ther oure abbot hath hym sent;
For timber, that the abbot has him sent;
For he is wont for tymber for to go,
For he is wont for timber thus to go,
And dwellen at the grange a day or two;
Remaining at the grange a day or so;
Or elles he is at his hous, certeyn.
Or else he's surely at his house today;
Where that he be, I kan nat soothly seyn.
But which it is I cannot truly say.
This absolon ful joly was and light,
This Absalom right happy was and light,
And thoghte, now is tyme to wake al nyght;
And thought: Now is the time to wake all night;
For sikirly I saugh hym nat stirynge
For certainly I saw him not stirring
Aboute his dore, syn day bigan to sprynge.
About his door since day began to spring.
So moot I thryve, I shal, at cokkes crowe,
So may I thrive, as I shall, at cock's crow,
Ful pryvely knokken at his wyndowe
Knock cautiously upon that window low
That stant ful lowe upon his boures wal.
Which is so placed upon his bedroom wall.
To alison now wol I tellen al
To Alison then will I tell of all
My love-longynge, for yet I shal nat mysse
My love-longing, and thus I shall not miss
That at the leeste wey I shal hire kisse.
That at the least I'll have her lips to kiss.
Som maner confort shal I have, parfay.
Some sort of comfort shall I have, I say,
My mouth hath icched al this longe day;
My mouth's been itching all this livelong day;
That is a signe of kissyng atte leeste.
That is a sign of kissing at the least.
Al nyght me mette eek I was at a feeste.
All night I dreamed, too, I was at a feast.
Therfore I wol go slepe an houre or tweye,
Therefore I'll go and sleep two hours away
And al the nyght thanne wol I wake and pleye.
And all this night then will I wake and play.
Whan that the firste cok hath crowe, anon
And so when time of first cock-crow was come,
Up rist this joly lovere absolon
Up rose this merry lover, Absalom,
And hym arraieth gay, at poynt-devys.
And dressed him gay and all at point-device,
But first he cheweth greyn and lycorys,
But first he chewed some licorice and spice
To smellen sweete, er he hadde kembd his heer.
So he'd smell sweet, ere he had combed his hair.
Under his tonge a trewe-love he beer,
Under his tongue some bits of true-love rare,
For therby wende he to ben gracious.
For thereby thought he to be more gracious.
He rometh to the carpenteres hous,
He went, then, to the carpenter's dark house.
And stille he stant under the shot-wyndowe --
And silent stood beneath the shot-window;
Unto his brest it raughte, it was so lowe --
Unto his breast it reached, it was so low;
And softe he cougheth with a semy soun --
And he coughed softly, in a low half tone:
What do ye, hony-comb, sweete alisoun,
What do you, honeycomb, sweet Alison?
My faire bryd, my sweete cynamome?
My cinnamon, my fair bird, my sweetie,
Awaketh, lemman myn, and speketh to me!
Awake, O darling mine, and speak to me!
Wel litel thynken ye upon my wo,
It's little thought you give me and my woe,
That for youre love I swete ther I go.
Who for your love do sweat where'er I go.
No wonder is thogh that I swelte and swete;
Yet it's no wonder that I faint and sweat;
I moorne as dooth a lamb after the tete.
I long as does the lamb for mother's teat.
Ywis, lemman, I have swich love-longynge,
Truly, sweetheart, I have such love-longing
That lik a turtel trewe is my moornynge.
That like a turtle-dove's my true yearning;
I may nat ete na moore than a mayde.
And I can eat no more than can a maid.
go fro the wyndow, jakke fool, she sayde;
Go from the window, Jack-a-napes, she said,
As help me god, it wol nat be 'com pa me.'
For, s'help me God, it is not 'come kiss me.'
I love another -- and elles I were to blame --
I love another, or to blame I'd be,
Wel bet than thee, by jhesu, absolon.
Better than you, by Jesus, Absalom!
Go forth thy wey, or I wol caste a ston,
Go on your way, or I'll stone you therefrom,
And lat me slepe, a twenty devel wey!
And let me sleep, the fiends take you away!
allas, quod absolon, and weylawey,
Alas, quoth Absalom, and welaway!
That trewe love was evere so yvel biset!
That true love ever was so ill beset!
Thanne kysse me, syn it may be no bet,
But kiss me, since you'll do no more, my pet,
For jhesus love, and for the love of me.
For Jesus' love and for the love of me.
Wiltow thanne go thy wey therwith? quod she.
And will you go, then, on your way? asked she,
Ye, certes, lemman, quod this absolon.
Yes truly, darling, said this Absalom.
Thanne make thee redy, quod she, I come anon.
Then make you ready, said she, and I'll come!
And unto nicholas she seyde stille,
And unto Nicholas said she, low and still:
Now hust, and thou shalt laughen al thy fille.
Be silent now, and you shall laugh your fill.
This absolon doun sette hym on his knees
This Absalom plumped down upon his knees,
And seyde, I am a lord at alle degrees;
And said: I am a lord in all degrees;
For after this I hope ther cometh moore.
For after this there may be better still
Lemman, thy grace, and sweete bryd, thyn oore!
Darling, my sweetest bird, I wait your will.
The wyndow she undoth, and that in haste.
The window she unbarred, and that in haste.
Have do, quod she, com of, and speed the faste,
Have done, said she, come on, and do it fast,
Lest that oure neighebores thee espie.
Before we're seen by any neighbour's eye.
This absolon gan wype his mouth ful drie.
This Absalom did wipe his mouth all dry;
Derk was the nyght as pich, or as the cole,
Dark was the night as pitch, aye dark as coal,
And at the wyndow out she putte hir hole,
And through the window she put out her hole.
And absolon, hym fil no bet ne wers,
And Absalom no better felt nor worse,
But with his mouth he kiste hir naked ers
But with his mouth he kissed her naked arse
Ful savourly, er he were war of this.
Right greedily, before he knew of this.
Abak he stirte, and thoughte it was amys,
Aback he leapt- it seemed somehow amiss,
For wel he wiste a womman hath no berd.
For well he knew a woman has no beard;
He felte a thyng al rough and long yherd,
He'd felt a thing all rough and longish haired,
And seyde, fy! allas! what have I do?
And said, Oh fie, alas! What did I do?
Tehee! quod she, and clapte the wyndow to,
Teehee! she laughed, and clapped the, window to;
And absolon gooth forth a sory pas.
And Absalom went forth a sorry pace.
A berd! a berd! quod hende nicholas,
A beard! A beard! cried clever Nicholas,
By goddes corpus, this goth faire and weel.
Now by God's corpus, this goes fair and well!
This sely absolon herde every deel,
This hapless Absalom, he heard that yell,
And on his lippe he gan for anger byte,
And on his lip, for anger, he did bite;
And to hymself he seyde, I shal thee quyte.
And to himself he said, I will requite!
Who rubbeth now, who froteth now his lippes
Who vigorously rubbed and scrubbed his lips
With dust, with sond, with straw, with clooth, with chippes,
With dust, with sand, with straw, with cloth, with chips,
But absolon, that seith ful ofte, allas!
But Absalom, and often cried Alas!
My soule bitake I unto sathanas,
My soul I give now unto Sathanas,
But me were levere than al this toun, quod he,
For rather far than own this town, said he,
Of this despit awroken for to be.
For this despite, it's well revenged I'd be.
Allas, quod he, allas, I ne hadde ybleynt!
Alas, said he, from her I never blenched!
His hoote love was coold and al yqueynt;
His hot love was grown cold, aye and all quenched;
For fro that tyme that he hadde kist hir ers,
For, from the moment that he'd kissed her arse,
Of paramours he sette nat a kers;
For paramours he didn't care a curse,
For he was heeled of his maladie.
For he was healed of all his malady;
Ful ofte paramours he gan deffie,
Indeed all paramours he did defy,
And weep as dooth a child that is ybete.
And wept as does a child that has been beat.
A softe paas he wente over the strete
With silent step he went across the street
Until a smyth men cleped daun gerveys,
Unto a smith whom men called Dan Jarvis,
That in his forge smythed plough harneys;
Who in his smithy forged plow parts, that is
He sharpeth shaar and kultour bisily.
He sharpened shares and coulters busily.
This absolon knokketh al esily,
This Absalom he knocked all easily,
What, who artow? it am I, absalon.
And said: Unbar here, Jarvis, for I come.
And seyde, undo, gerveys, and that anon.
What! Who are you? It's I, it's Absalom.
What, absolon! for cristes sweete tree,
What! Absalom! For Jesus Christ's sweet tree,
Why rise ye so rathe? ey, benedicitee!
Why are you up so early? Ben'cite!
What eyleth yow? som gay gerl, God it woot,
What ails you now, man? Some gay girl, God knows,
Hath broght yow thus upon the viritoot.
Has brought you on the jump to my bellows;
By seinte note, ye woot wel what I mene.
By Saint Neot, you know well what I mean.
This absolon ne roghte nat a bene
This Absalom cared not a single bean
Of al his pley; no word agayn he yaf;
For all this play, nor one word back he gave;
He hadde moore tow on his distaf
He'd more tow on his distaff, had this knave,
Than gerveys knew, and seyde, freend so deere,
Than Jarvis knew, and said he: Friend so dear,
That hoote kultour in the chymenee heere,
This red-hot coulter in the fireplace here,
As lene it me, I have therwith to doone,
Lend it to me, I have a need for it,
And I wol brynge it thee agayn ful soone.
And I'll return it after just a bit.
Gerveys answerde, certes, were it gold,
Jarvis replied: Certainly, were it gold
Or in a poke nobles alle untold,
Or a purse filled with yellow coins untold,
Thou sholdest have, as I am trewe smyth.
Yet should you have it, as I am true smith;
Ey, cristes foo! what wol ye do therwith?
But eh, Christ's foe! What will you do therewith?
Therof, quod absolon, be as be may.
Let that, said Absalom, be as it may;
I shal wel telle it thee to-morwe day --
I'll tell you all tomorrow, when it's day-
And caughte the kultour by the colde stele.
And caught the coulter then by the cold steel
Ful softe out at the dore he gan to stele,
And softly from the smithy door did steal
And wente unto the carpenteris wal.
And went again up to the wood-wright's wall.
He cogheth first, and knokketh therwithal
He coughed at first, and then he knocked withal
Upon the wyndowe, right as he dide er.
Upon the window, as before, with care.
This alison answerde, who is ther
This Alison replied: Now who is there?
That knokketh so? I warante it a theef.
And who knocks so? I'll warrant it's a thief.
Why, nay, quod he, God woot, my sweete leef,
Why no, quoth he, God knows, my sweet roseleaf,
I am thyn absolon, my deerelyng.
I am your Absalom, my own darling!
Of gold, quod he, I have thee broght a ryng.
Of gold, quoth he, I have brought you a ring;
My mooder yaf it me, so God me save;
My mother gave it me, as I'll be saved;
Ful fyn it is, and therto wel ygrave.
Fine gold it is, and it is well engraved;
This wol I yeve thee, if thou me kisse.
This will I give you for another kiss.
This nicholas was risen for to pisse,
This Nicholas had risen for a piss,
And thoughte he wolde amenden al the jape;
And thought that it would carry on the jape
He sholde kisse his ers er that he scape.
To have his arse kissed by this jack-a-nape.
And up the wyndowe dide he hastily,
And so he opened window hastily,
And out his ers he putteth pryvely
And put his arse out thereat, quietly,
Over the buttok, to the haunche-bon;
Over the buttocks, showing the whole bum;
And therwith spak this clerk, this absolon,
And thereto said this clerk, this Absalom,
Spek, sweete bryd, I noot nat where thou art.
O speak, sweet bird, I know not where thou art.
This nicholas anon leet fle a fart,
This Nicholas just then let fly a fart
As greet as it had been a thonder-dent,
As loud as it had been a thunder-clap,
That with the strook he was almoost yblent;
And well-nigh blinded Absalom, poor chap;
And he was redy with his iren hoot,
But he was ready with his iron hot
And nicholas amydde the ers he smoot.
And Nicholas right in the arse he got.
Of gooth the skyn an hande-brede aboute,
Off went the skin a hand's-breadth broad, about,
The hoote kultour brende so his toute,
The coulter burned his bottom so, throughout,
And for the smert he wende for to dye.
That for the pain he thought that he should die.
As he were wood, for wo he gan to crye,
And like one mad he started in to cry,
Help! water! water! water! help, for goddes herte!
Help! Water! Water! For God's dear heart!
This carpenter out of his slomber sterte,
This carpenter out of his sleep did start,
And herde oon crien water as he were wood,
Hearing that Water! cried as madman would,
And thoughte, allas, now comth nowelis flood!
And thought, Alas, now comes down Noel's flood!
He sit hym up withouten wordes mo,
He struggled up without another word
And with his ax he smoot the corde atwo,
And with his axe he cut in two the cord,
And doun gooth al; he foond neither to selle,
And down went all; he did not stop to trade
Ne breed ne ale, til he cam to the celle
In bread or ale till he'd the journey made,
Upon the floor, and ther aswowne he lay.
And there upon the floor he swooning lay.
Up stirte hire alison and nicholay,
Up started Alison and Nicholay
And criden out and harrow in the strete.
And shouted Help! and Hello! down the street.
The neighebores, bothe smale and grete,
The neighbours, great and small, with hastening feet
In ronnen for to gauren on this man,
Swarmed in the house to stare upon this man,
That yet aswowne lay, bothe pale and wan,
Who lay yet swooning, and all pale and wan;
For with the fal he brosten hadde his arm.
For in the falling he had smashed his arm.
But stonde he moste unto his owene harm;
He had to suffer, too, another harm,
For whan he spak, he was anon bore doun
For when he spoke he was at once borne down
With hende nicholas and alisoun.
By clever Nicholas and Alison.
They tolden every man that he was wood,
For they told everyone that he was odd;
He was agast so of nowelis flood
He was so much afraid of Noel's flood,
Thurgh fantasie, that of his vanytee
Through fantasy, that out of vanity
He hadde yboght hym knedyng tubbes thre,
He'd gone and bought these kneading-tubs, all three,
And hadde hem hanged in the roof above;
And that he'd hung them near the roof above;
And that he preyed hem, for goddes love,
And that he had prayed them, for God's dear love,
To sitten in the roof, par compaignye.
To sit with him and bear him company.
The folk gan laughen at his fantasye;
The people laughed at all this fantasy;
Into the roof they kiken and they cape,
Up to the roof they looked, and there did gape,
And turned al his harm unto a jape.
And so turned all his injury to a jape.
For what so that this carpenter answerde,
For when this carpenter got in a word,
It was for noght, no man his reson herde.
'Twas all in vain, no man his reasons heard;
With othes grete he was so sworn adoun
With oaths imprenive he was so sworn down,
That he was holde wood in al the toun;
That he was held for mad by all the town;
For every clerk anonright heeld with oother.
For every clerk did side with every other.
They seyde, the man is wood, my leeve brother;
They said: The man is crazy, my dear brother.
And every wight gan laughen at this stryf.
And everyone did laugh at all this strife.
Thus swyved was this carpenteris wyf,
Thus futtered was the carpenter's goodwife,
For al his kepyng and his jalousye;
For all his watching and his jealousy;
And absolon hath kist hir nether ye;
And Absalom has kissed her nether eye;
And nicholas is scalded in the towte.
And Nicholas is branded on the butt.
This tale is doon, and God save al the rowte!
This tale is done, and God save all the rout!