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This Chauntecleer stood hye up-on his toos, | Herden thise hennes crye and maken wo, Strecching his nekke, and held his eyen cloos, And out at dores sterten thay anoon, And gan to crowe loude for the nones1; And syen the fox toward the grove goon, And daun Russel2 the foxe sterte up at ones, And bar upon his bak the cok away; And by the gargat3 hente Chauntecleer, And cryden, 'Out! harrow! and weylaway! 560 And on his bak toward the wode him beer1, Ha, ha, the fox!' and after him they ran, For yet ne was ther no man that him sewed5. And eek with staves many another man; O destinee, that mayst nat ben eschewed! Ran Colle our dogge, and Talbot21, and GerAllas, that Chauntecleer fleigh fro the bemes! land21, Allas, his wyf ne roghte nat of dremes! And on a Friday fil al this meschaunce. O Venus, that art goddesse of plesaunce, Sin that thy servant was this Chauntecleer,

520

And Malkin22, with a distaf in hir hand;
Ran cow and calf, and eek the verray hogges
So were they fered for berking of the dogges
And shouting of the men and wimmen eke,
They ronne so, hem thoughte hir herte breke.

Why woldestow suffre him on thy day to dye? They yelleden as feendes doon in helle;

O Gaufred, dere mayster soverayn7,
That, whan thy worthy king Richard was slayn
With shot, compleynedest his deth so sore,
Why ne hadde I now thy sentences and thy
lore,

The Friday for to chide, as diden ye?

531

(For on a Friday soothly slayn was he.)
Than wolde I shewe yow how that I coude
pleynes

For Chauntecleres drede, and for his peyne.
Certes, swich cry ne lamentacioun
Was nevere of ladies maad, whan Ilioun

Was wonne, and Pirrus10 with his streite11
swerd,

540

Whan he hadde hent king Priam by the berd,
And slayn him (as saith us Eneydos) 12,
As maden alle the hennes in the clos13,
Whan they had seyn of Chauntecleer the sighte.
But sovereynly14 dame Pertelote shrighte15,
Ful louder than dide Hasdrubales16 wyf,
Whan that hir housbond hadde lost his lyf,
And that the Romayns hadde brend Cartage,
She was so ful of torment and of rage,
That wilfully into the fyr she sterte17,

571

The dokes cryden as men wolde hem quelle23;
The gees for fere flowen over the trees;
Out of the hyve cam the swarm of bees;
So hidous was the noyse, a! benedicite !24
Certes, he Iakke Straw25, and his meynee26,
Ne maden nevere shoutes half so shrille,
Whan that they wolden any Fleming kille,
As thilke day was maad upon the fox.
Of bras thay broghten bemes27 and of box28,
Of horn, of boon, in whiche they blewe and
pouped29,

581

And therwithal thay shryked and they houped30;
It semed as that hevene sholde falle.
Now, gode men, I pray yow herkneth alle!
Lo, how fortune turneth sodeinly
The hope and pryde eek of hir enemy!
This cok, that lay upon the foxes bak,
In al his drede, un-to the fox he spak,
And seyde, 'sire, if that I were as ye,
Yet sholde I seyn (as wis31 God helpe me),
Turneth agayn, ye proude cherles alle!
A verray pestilence up-on yow falle!
Now am I come un-to this wodes syde,
Maugree32 your heed, the cok shal heer abyde;

And brende18 hir-selven with a stedfast herte. I wol him ete in feith, and that anon.'—

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590

The fox answerde, 'In feith, it shal be don, '—
And as he spak that word, al sodeinly
This cok brak from his mouth deliverly33,
And heighe up-on a tree he fleigh anon.
And whan the fox saugh that he was y-gon,
'Allas!' quod he, 'O Chauntecleer, allas!

This sely20 widwe, and eek hir doghtres two, I have to yow,' quod he, 'y-doon trespas, 600

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But, sire, I dide it in no wikke1 entente;
Com doun, and I shal telle yow what I mente.
I shal seye sooth to yow, God help me so.'
'Nay than,' quod he, 'I shrewe2 us bothe two,
And first I shrewe my-self, bothe blood and
bones,

If thou bigyle me ofter than ones.
Thou shalt namore, thurgh thy flaterye
Do3 me to singe and winke with myn yë.
For he that winketh, whan he sholde see,
Al wilfully, God lat him never thee1!
'Nay,' quod the fox, 'but God yive
meschaunce,

That is so undiscreet of governaunce,

Máydens ben y-kept for jelousye

Ful streyte15, leste they diden somme folye.
This yonge man was cleped Piramus,
And Tesbe highte the maide,-Naso16 seith
thus.

And thus by reporte was hir name y-shove17,
That as they wex in age, wex hir love.
And certeyn, as by reson of hir age,

730

610 Ther myghte have ben betwex hem mariage,
But that hir fadres nold18 it not assente,
And both in love y-like soore they brente19,
him That noon of al hir frendes myghte it lette2o.
But prevely21 somtyme yit they mette
By sleight, and spoken somme of hir desire,

That iangleth5 whan he sholde holde his pees.' As wre the glede22 and hotter is the fire;

Lo, swich it is for to be recchelees,

And necligent, and truste on flaterye.
But ye that holden this tale a folye,
As of a fox, or of a cok and hen,
Taketh the moralitee therof, good men.
For seint Paul seith, that al that writen is,
To our doctrynes it is y-write, y-wis.
Taketh the fruyt, and lat the chaf be stille.

620

Forbeede a love, and it is ten so woode23.

This wal, which that bitwixe hem bothe stoode,

739

Was cloven a-two, right fro the toppe adoun,
Of olde tyme, of his foundacioun.
But yit this clyfte was so narwe and lite24
It was nat seene, deere ynogh a myte25;
But what is that that love kannat espye?
Ye lovers two, if that I shal nat lye,
Ye founden first this litel narwe clifte,
And with a soune as softe as any shryfte26,
They leete hir wordes thurgh the clifte pace,
And tolden, while they stoden in the place,
Al hire compleynt of love, and al hire wo,
At every tyme whan they dorste so.
Upon the o syde of the walle stood he,
And on that other syde stood Tesbe,
The swoote soun of other to receyve.
And thus here27 wardeyn wolde they disceyve,
709 And every day this walle they wolde threetes,
And wisshe to God that it were doun y-bete.
Thus wolde they seyn: 'Allas, thou wikked

Now, gode God, if that it be thy wille,
As seith my lord, so make us alle good men ;
And bringe us to his heighe blisse. Amen7.
FROM THE LEGEND OF GOOD WOMEN.
THE STORY OF THISBE OF BABYLON, MARTYR
Incipit Legende Tesba Babilon, Martiris
At Babiloyne whilom fil its thus,-
The whiche toun the queene Semyramus9
Leet dichen al about, and walles make10
Ful hye, of harde tiles wel y-bake:
There were dwellynge in this noble toune
Two lordes, which that were of grete renoune,
And woneden11 so neigh upon a grene,
That ther nas but a stoon wal hem betwene,
As ofte in grette tounes is the wone.
And south to seyn, that o man had a sone,
Of al that londe oon of the lustieste;
That other had a doghtre, the faireste
That esteward in the worlde

dwellynge.

was

walle!

749

760

Thurgh thyn envye thow us lettest 29 alle! Why nyltow cleve30, or fallen al a-two? Or at the leeste, but thow wouldest so31, Yit woldestow but ones let us meete, Or ones that we myghte kyssen sweete, tho12 Than were we covered32 of oure cares colde. But natheles, yit be we to thee holde33, In as muche as thou suffrest for to goon Our wordes thurgh thy lyme and eke thy stoon; 15 strictly 23 ten times as passionate

718

The name of everyche13 gan to other sprynge14,
By wommen that were neyghebores aboute;
For in that contre yit, withouten doute,

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16 Ovid (Publius Ovid

ius Naso) in Meta-
morphoses iv 55,
ff.. whence this
story is taken.

17 their names were
brought forward
(literally pushed)

18 would not

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24 little

25 scarcely at all

26 confession

27 their

28 threaten

29 hinderest

30 wilt thou not cleave in two

31 if thou wouldest not

do that

32 recovered

22 cover

the

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Yet oghte we with the ben wel apayede1.'
And whan these idel wordes weren sayde,
The colde walle they wolden kysse of stoon,
And take hir leve, and forth they wolden goon.
And this was gladly in the evetyde, 770
Or wonder erly, lest men it espyede.
And longe tyme they wroght in this manere,
Til on a day, whan Phebus2 gan to clere3—
Aurora with the stremes of hire hete1
Had dried uppe the dewe of herbes wete-
Unto this clyfte, as it was wont to be,
Come Piramus, and after come Tesbe.
And plighten trouthes fully in here fayes,
That ilke same nyght to steele awaye,
And to begile hire wardeyns everychone,
And forth out of the citee for to gone.
And, for the feeldes ben so broode and wide,
Fór to meete in o place at o tyde

They sette markes, hire metyng sholde bee

820

And eke so glade that she was escaped;
And ther she sytte, and darketh21 wonder stille.
Whan that this lyonesse hath dronke hire fille,
Aboute the welle gan she for to wynde22,
And ryght anon the wympil gan she fynde,
And with hir blody mouth it al to-rente.
Whan this was don, no lenger she ne stente23,
But to the woode hir wey than hath she nome24.
And at the laste this Piramus is come,
But al to longe, allas, at home was hee!
The moone shone, men myghte wel y-see,
And in his wey, as that he come ful faste,
His eyen to the grounde adoun he caste;
And in the sonde as he behelde adoun25,
780 He seigh the steppes broode of a lyoun;
And in his herte he sodeynly agroos26,
And pale he wex, therwith his heer aroos,
And nere he come, and founde the wympel
torne.

Ther kyng Nynus was gravens, under a tree,-'Allas,' quod he, 'the day that I was borne!

For olde payens, that ydóles heriede1o,

Useden tho in feeldes to ben beriede11,-
And faste by his grave was a welle.
And, shortly of this tale for to telle,
This covenaunt was affermed wonder faste, 790
And longe hem thoghte that the sonne laste,
That it nere goon12 under the see adoun.

This Tesbe hath so greete affeccioun,
And so grete lykynge Piramus to see,
That whan she seigh hire tyme myghte bee,
At nyght she stale13 awey ful prevely,
With hire face y-wympled subtilly.
For al hire frendes, for to save hire trouthe,
She hath forsake; allas, and that is routhe14,
That ever woman wolde be so trewe
800

To trusten man, but she the bet hym knewe15!
And to the tree she goth a ful goode paas16,
For love made hir so hardy in this caas;
And by the welle adoun she gan hir dresse17.
Allas! than comith a wilde leonesse

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830

840

This o nyght wol us lovers bothe slee!
How shulde I axen mercy of Tesbee,
Whan I am he that have yow slayne, allas?
My byddyng hath i-slayn yow in this caas!
Allas, to bidde a woman goon by nyghte
In place ther as27 peril fallen myghte!
And I so slowe! allas, I ne hadde be28
Here in this place, a furlong wey or ye29!
Now what lyon that be in this foreste,
My body mote he renten30, or what beste
That wilde is, gnawen mote he now my herte!'
And with that worde he to the wympel sterte,
And kiste it ofte, and wepte on it ful sore;
And seyde, 'Wympel, allas! ther nys no more31,
But thou shalt feele as wel the blode of me,
As thou hast felt the bledynge of Tesbe.'
And with that worde he smot hym to the
herte;

850

The blood out of the wounde as brode sterte
As water, whan the conduyte broken is.

Now Tesbe, which that wyste32 nat of this,
But syttyng in hire drede, she thoghte thus:
'If it so falle that my Piramus

Be comen hider, and may me nat y-fynde,
He may me holden fals, and eke unkynde.'
And oute she comith, and after hym gan espien
Bóthe with hire herte and with hire eyen:
And thoghte, 'I wol him tellen of my drede,
Bothe of the lyonesse and al my dede.'
861
And at the laste hire love than hath she founde,
Bétynge with his helis33 on the grounde,
Al blody; and therwithal abak she sterte,

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And lyke the wawes1 quappe2 gan hir herte,
And pale as boxe3 she wax, and in a throwe
Avised hir5, and gan him wel to knowe,
That it was Piramus, hire herte dere.

Who koude write which a dedely chere
Hath Tesbe now? and how hire heeres she
rente?

And how she gan hir-selve to turmente? And how she lyth and swowneth on grounde?

870

And for my parte I shal anon it kythe14!'
And with that worde his swerde she took as
swithe15,

That warme was of hire loves blood, and hote,
And to the herte she hire-selven smote.

And thus are Tesbe and Piramus ago16.
Of trewe men I fynde but fewe mo
In al my bookes, save this Piramus,

the And therfore have I spoken of hym thus
For it is deyntee to us men to fynde
A man that kan in love be trewe and kynde.
Here may ye seen, what lover so he be,

And how she wepe of teres ful his wounde?
How medleth? she his blood with hir com-
pleynte?

How with his blood hir-selven gan she peynte?
How clippeths she the dede corps? allas!
How doth this woful Tesbe in this cas?
How kysseth she his frosty mouthe so colde?
Who hath don this? and who hath ben so
bolde
879

To sleen my leefe? O speke, Piramus!
I am thy Tesbe, that thee calleth thus!'
And therwithal she lyfteth up his heed.

This woful man, that was nat fully deed,
Whan that he herde the name of Tesbe crien,
On hire he caste his hevy dedely eyen,
And doun agayn, and yeldeth up the goste.
Tesbe rist uppe, withouten noyse or boste1o,
And saugh hir wympel and his empty shethe,
And eke his swerde, that him hath don to
dethe.

890

A woman dar and kan as wel as he.

920

THE COMPLEYNT OF CHAUCER TO HIS
PURSE

To you, my purse, and to noon other wyght
Compleyne I, for ye be my lady dere!

I am so sorry now that ye been light;

For, certes, but ye make me hevy chere17,
Me were as leef be leyd upon my bere18,
For whiche unto your mercy thus I crye,-
Beth19 hevy ageyn, or elles mot20 I dye!
Now voucheth sauf21 this day or hit22 be nyght,
That I of you the blisful soun23 may here24,
Or see your colour lyk the sonne bright,
That of yelownesse hadde never pere25,
Ye be my lyf! ye be myn hertes stere26!

Than spake she thus: 'Thy woful hande,' quod Quene of comfort and of good companye!
she,
Beth hevy ageyn, or elles mot I dye.
Now, purse, that be to me my lyves light

'Is strong ynogh in swiche a werke to me;
For love shal me yive strengthe and hardy-

nesse,

901

To make my wounde large ynogh, I gesse.
I wole the folowen ded, and I wol be
Felawe and cause eke of thy deeth,' quod she.
'And thogh that nothing save the deth only
Myghte the fro me departe12 trewely,
Thou shal no more departe now fro me
Than fro the deth, for I wol go with the.
'And now, ye wrecched jelouse fadres oure,
Wé, that weren whilome children youre,
We prayen yow, withouten more envye,
That in o grave i-fere13 we moten lye,
Syn love hath broght us to this pitouse ende.
And ryghtwis God to every lover sende,
That loveth trewely, more prosperite
Than ever hadde Piramus and Tesbe.
And let no gentile woman hire assure,
To putten hire in swiche an áventure.
But God forbede but a woman kan
Ben also trewe and lovynge as a man,

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910

10

And saveour, as doun27 in this worlde here,
Out of this toun help me throgh your myght,
Syn28 that ye wole not been my tresorere2;
For I am shave as nye as is a frere30.
But yet I pray unto your curtesye,
Beth hevy ageyn, or elles mot I dye!
L'Envoye De Chaucer

20

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FROM THE TRAVELS OF SIR JOHN MANDEVILLE*

PROLOGUE

Forasmuch as the land beyond the sea, that is to say the Holy Land, that men call the Land of Promission or of Behest1, passing all other lands, is the most worthy land, most excellent, and lady and sovereign of all other lands, and is blessed and hallowed of the precious body and blood of our Lord Jesus Christ; in the which land it liked him to take flesh and blood of the Virgin Mary, to environ2 that holy land

with his blessed feet;

and forasmuch as it is long time passed that there was no general passage ne voyage over the sea; and many men desire for to hear speak of the Holy Land, and have thereof great solace and com fort;-I, John Mandeville, Knight, albeit I be not worthy, that was born in England, in the town of St. Albans, and passed the sea in the year of our Lord Jesu Christ, 1322, in the day of St. Michael; and hitherto have been long time over the sea, and have seen and gone through many diverse lands, and many prov: inces and kingdoms and isles; and have passed throughout Turkey, Armenia the little and the great; through Tartary, Persia, Syria, Arabia, Egypt the high and the low; through Libya, Chaldea, and a great part of Ethiopia; through Amazonia, Ind the less and the moret, a great part; and throughout many other isles that be about Ind, where dwell many diverse folks, and of diverse manners and laws,

I shall

and of diverse shapes of men; tell the way that they shall hold thither. For I have oftentimes passed and ridden that way, with good company of many lords. God be thanked!

And ye shall understand that I have put this book out of Latin into French, and translated it again out of French into English, that every man of my nation may understand it. But lords and knights and other noble and worthy men that con3 Latin but little, and

1 Land of Promise 2 go about

3 know

This book, which was extremely popular in its day, was accepted then and long after in good faith. We now know it to be mainly a compilation from other books of travel, ingeniously passed off as a record of original experience. Mandeville" is probably a fictitious name. The oldest MS. is in French, dated 1371. The English translation from which our selections are taken was made after 1400, and therefore represents the language of the generation succeeding Chaucer. The spelling is modernized. See Eng. Lit., p. 44.

† Mandeville here couples the fabulous land of the Amazons with the actual Lesser and Greater India.

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OF THE CROSS OF OUR LORD JESU CHRIST

Jesu Christ, and his coat without seams, that At Constantinople is the cross of our Lord is clept tunica inconsutilise, and the sponge, and the reed, of the which the Jews gave our Lord eisel and gall, ins the cross. And there is one of the nails that Christ was nailed with on the cross. And some men trow that half the cross, that Christ was done on, be in Cyprus, in an abbey of monks, that men call For that cross, that is in Cyprus, is the cross the Hill of the Holy Cross; but it is not so. in the which Dismas the good thief was hanged on. But all men know not that; and that is evil y-done. For for profit of the offering they say that it is the cross of our Lord Jesu

Christ.

And ye shall understand that the cross of our Lord was made of four manner of trees, as it is contained in this verse,-In cruce fit palma, cedrus, cypressus, oliva. For that piece that went upright from the earth to the head thwart, to the which his hands were nailed, was was of cypress; and the piece that went overof palm; and the stock, that stood within the earth, in the which was made the mortise, was of cedar; and the table above his head, that was a foot and an half long, on the which the title was written in Hebrew, Greek, and Latin, that was of olive.

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And the Christian men, that dwell beyond the sea, in Greece, say that the tree of the cross, that we call cypress, was of that tree that Adam ate the apple off; and that find they written. And they say also that their scripture saith that Adam was sick, and said to his son Seth, that he should go to the angel that kept Paradise, that he would send him oil of mercy, for to anoint with his members, that he might have health. And Seth went. But the angel would not let him come in; but said

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