The Canon's Yeoman's Tale - The Prologue

by Geoffrey Chaucer

　　WHEN ended was the life of Saint Cecile, Ere we had ridden fully five mile, At Boughton-under-Blee us gan o'ertake A man, that clothed was in clothes black, And underneath he wore a white surplice. His hackenay,* which was all pomely-gris,** *nag **dapple-gray So sweated, that it wonder was to see; It seem'd as he had pricked* miles three. *spurred The horse eke that his yeoman rode upon So sweated, that unnethes* might he gon.** *hardly **go About the peytrel stood the foam full high; He was of foam, as *flecked as a pie.* *spotted like a magpie* A maile twyfold on his crupper lay; It seemed that he carried little array; All light for summer rode this worthy man. And in my heart to wonder I began What that he was, till that I understood How that his cloak was sewed to his hood; For which, when I had long advised* me, *considered I deemed him some Canon for to be. His hat hung at his back down by a lace,* *cord For he had ridden more than trot or pace; He hadde pricked like as he were wood.* *mad A clote-leaf* he had laid under his hood, * burdock-leaf For sweat, and for to keep his head from heat. But it was joye for to see him sweat; His forehead dropped as a stillatory* *still Were full of plantain or of paritory.* *wallflower And when that he was come, he gan to cry, "God save," quoth he, "this jolly company. Fast have I pricked," quoth he, "for your sake, Because that I would you overtake, To riden in this merry company." His Yeoman was eke full of courtesy, And saide, "Sirs, now in the morning tide Out of your hostelry I saw you ride, And warned here my lord and sovereign, Which that to ride with you is full fain, For his disport; he loveth dalliance." "Friend, for thy warning God give thee good chance,"* *fortune Said oure Host; "certain it woulde seem Thy lord were wise, and so I may well deem; He is full jocund also, dare I lay; Can he aught tell a merry tale or tway, With which he gladden may this company?" "Who, Sir? my lord? Yea, Sir, withoute lie, He can* of mirth and eke of jollity *knows *Not but* enough; also, Sir, truste me, *not less than* An* ye him knew all so well as do I, *if Ye would wonder how well and craftily He coulde work, and that in sundry wise. He hath take on him many a great emprise,* *task, undertaking Which were full hard for any that is here To bring about, but* they of him it lear.** *unless **learn As homely as he rides amonges you, If ye him knew, it would be for your prow:* *advantage Ye woulde not forego his acquaintance For muche good, I dare lay in balance All that I have in my possession. He is a man of high discretion. I warn you well, he is a passing* man." *surpassing, extraordinary Well," quoth our Host, "I pray thee tell me than, Is he a clerk,* or no? Tell what he is." *scholar, priest "Nay, he is greater than a clerk, y-wis,"* *certainly Saide this Yeoman; "and, in wordes few, Host, of his craft somewhat I will you shew, I say, my lord can* such a subtlety *knows (But all his craft ye may not weet* of me, *learn And somewhat help I yet to his working), That all the ground on which we be riding Till that we come to Canterbury town, He could all cleane turnen up so down, And pave it all of silver and of gold." And when this Yeoman had this tale told Unto our Host, he said; "Ben'dicite! This thing is wonder marvellous to me, Since that thy lord is of so high prudence, Because of which men should him reverence, That of his worship* recketh he so lite;** *honour **little His *overest slop* it is not worth a mite *upper garment* As in effect to him, so may I go; It is all baudy* and to-tore also. *slovenly Why is thy lord so sluttish, I thee pray, And is of power better clothes to bey,* *buy If that his deed accordeth with thy speech? Telle me that, and that I thee beseech." "Why?" quoth this Yeoman, "whereto ask ye me? God help me so, for he shall never the* *thrive (But I will not avowe* that I say, *admit And therefore keep it secret, I you pray); He is too wise, in faith, as I believe. Thing that is overdone, it will not preve* *stand the test Aright, as clerkes say; it is a vice; Wherefore in that I hold him *lewd and nice."* *ignorant and foolish* For when a man hath over great a wit, Full oft him happens to misusen it; So doth my lord, and that me grieveth sore. God it amend; I can say now no more." "Thereof *no force,* good Yeoman, "quoth our Host; *no matter* "Since of the conning* of thy lord, thou know'st, *knowledge Tell how he doth, I pray thee heartily, Since that be is so crafty and so sly.* *wise Where dwelle ye, if it to telle be?" "In the suburbes of a town," quoth he, "Lurking in hernes* and in lanes blind, *corners Where as these robbers and these thieves by kind* *nature Holde their privy fearful residence, As they that dare not show their presence, So fare we, if I shall say the soothe."* *truth "Yet," quoth our Hoste, "let me talke to thee; Why art thou so discolour'd of thy face?" "Peter!" quoth he, "God give it harde grace, I am so us'd the hote fire to blow, That it hath changed my colour, I trow; I am not wont in no mirror to pry, But swinke* sore, and learn to multiply. *labour We blunder* ever, and poren** in the fire, *toil **peer And, for all that, we fail of our desire For ever we lack our conclusion To muche folk we do illusion, And borrow gold, be it a pound or two, Or ten or twelve, or many summes mo', And make them weenen,* at the leaste way, *fancy That of a pounde we can make tway. Yet is it false; and aye we have good hope It for to do, and after it we grope:* *search, strive But that science is so far us beforn, That we may not, although we had it sworn, It overtake, it slides away so fast; It will us make beggars at the last." While this Yeoman was thus in his talking, This Canon drew him near, and heard all thing Which this Yeoman spake, for suspicion Of menne's speech ever had this Canon: For Cato saith, that he that guilty is, Deemeth all things be spoken of him y-wis;* *surely Because of that he gan so nigh to draw To his Yeoman, that he heard all his saw; And thus he said unto his Yeoman tho* *then "Hold thou thy peace,and speak no wordes mo': For if thou do, thou shalt *it dear abie.* *pay dearly for it* Thou slanderest me here in this company And eke discoverest that thou shouldest hide." "Yea," quoth our Host, "tell on, whatso betide; Of all his threatening reck not a mite." "In faith," quoth he, "no more do I but lite."* *little And when this Canon saw it would not be But his Yeoman would tell his privity,* *secrets He fled away for very sorrow and shame. "Ah!" quoth the Yeoman, "here shall rise a game;* *some diversion All that I can anon I will you tell, Since he is gone; the foule fiend him quell!* *destroy For ne'er hereafter will I with him meet, For penny nor for pound, I you behete.* *promise He that me broughte first unto that game, Ere that he die, sorrow have he and shame. For it is earnest* to me, by my faith; *a serious matter That feel I well, what so any man saith; And yet for all my smart, and all my grief, For all my sorrow, labour, and mischief,* *trouble I coulde never leave it in no wise. Now would to God my witte might suffice To tellen all that longeth to that art! But natheless yet will I telle part; Since that my lord is gone, I will not spare; Such thing as that I know, I will declare." Notes to the Prologue to the Canon's Yeoman's Tale 1. "The introduction," says Tyrwhitt, "of the Canon's Yeoman to tell a Tale at a time when so many of the original characters remain to be called upon, appears a little extraordinary. It should seem that some sudden resentment had determined Chaucer to interrupt the regular course of his work, in order to insert a satire against the alchemists. That their pretended science was much cultivated about this time, and produced its usual evils, may fairly be inferred from the Act, which was passed soon after, 5 H. IV. c. iv., to make it felony 'to multiply gold or silver, or to use the art of multiplication.'" Tyrwhitt finds in the prologue some colour for the hypothesis that this Tale was intended by Chaucer to begin the return journey from Canterbury; but against this must be set the fact that the Yeoman himself expressly speaks of the distance to Canterbury yet to be ridden. 2. Fully five mile: From some place which the loss of the Second Nun's Prologue does not enable us to identify. 3. Peytrel: the breast-plate of a horse's harness; French, "poitrail." 4. A maile twyfold: a double valise; a wallet hanging across the crupper on either side of the horse. 5. Multiply: transmute metals, in the attempt to multiply gold and silver by alchemy. 6. "Conscius ipse sibi de se putat omnia dici" ("The conspirator believes that everything spoken refers to himself") — "De Moribus," I. i. dist. 17.