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On pilgrimage, in a full good intente;
And happed so, they come into a toun,
Wher as ther was swich congregacioun
Of peple, and eek so streit16 of herber-
gage,
That they ne founde as muche as o18 cotage,
In which they bothe mighte y-logged be.
Wherfor thay mosten, of necessitee,
As for that night, departen compaignye;
And ech of hem goth to his hostelrye,
And took his logging as it wolde falle. 175
That oon of hem was logged in a stalle,
Fer in a yerd, with oxen of the plough;
That other man was logged wel y-nough,
As was his aventure, 19 or his fortune,
That us governeth alle as in commune.20180

And so bifel, that, long er it were day, This man mette21 in his bed, ther-as he lay,

186

How that his felawe gan up-on him calle,
And seyde, 'allas! for in an oxes stalle
This night I shal be mordred ther22 I lye.
Now help me, dere brother, er I dye;
In alle haste com to me,' he sayde.
This man out of his sleep for fere abrayde;23
But whan that he was wakned of his sleep,
He turned him, and took of this no keep;2
Him thought his dreem nas but a vanitee.
Thus twyes in his sleping dremed he.
And atte thridde tyme yet his felawe
Cam, as him thoughte, and seide 'I am now
slawe;25

24

192

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ye han herd the dede man devyse; And with an hardy herte he gan to crye Vengeaunce and Iustice of this felonye:'My felawe mordred is this same night, 221 And in this carte he lyth gapinge upright.4 I crye out on the ministres,' quod he,

"That sholden kepe and reulen this citee; Harrow! allas! her lyth my felawe slayn!' What sholde I more unto this tale sayn?226 The peple out-sterte, and cast the cart to grounde,

231

And in the middel of the dong they founde
The dede man that mordred was al newe.
O blisful god, that art so Iust and trewe!
Lo, how that thou biwreyest5 mordre
alway!
Mordre wol out, that se we day by day.
Mordre is so wlatsom6 and abhominable
To god, that is so Iust and resonable,
That he ne wol nat suffre it heled' be;
Though it abyde a yeer, or two, or three,
Mordre wol out, this8 my conclusioun.
And right anoon, ministres of that toun
Han hent the carter, and so sore him
pyned,9

And eek the hostiler so sore engyned,10

1 shalt thou.

5 revealest.

• tortured.

235

240 2 inn. 3 delay. ' on his back. heinous. 7 concealed. 8 this is. 10 racked.

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That I wol lette for to do my thinges.'
I sette not a straw by thy dreminges, 270
For swevenes been but vanitees and
Iapes. 20

Men dreme al-day of owles or of apes,
And eke of many a mase21 therwithal;
Men dreme of thing that nevere was ne
shal.

But sith22 I see that thou wolt heer abyde,
And thus for-sleuthen23 wilfully thy tyde,

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God wot it reweth me; and have good day.'

277

And thus he took his leve, and wente his way.

But er that he hadde halfe his cours y-seyled,

Lo Cresus, which that was of Lyde" king, Mette he nat that he sat upon a tree, Which signified he sholde anhanged be?320 Lo heer Andromacha, Ectores wyf, That day that Ector sholde lese18 his lyf, She dremed on the same night biforn,

Noot I nat why, ne what mischaunce it How that the lyf of Ector sholde be lorn,19

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If thilke day he wente in-to bataille;
She warned him, but it mighte nat availle;
He wente for to fighte nathelees,

But he was slayn anoon of Achilles.
But thilke tale is al to long to telle,

And eek it is ny20 day, I may nat dwelle. 330
Shortly I seye, as for conclusioun,
That I shal han of this avisioun
Adversitee; and I seye forther-more,
That I ne telle of laxatyves no store,21
For they ben venimous, I woot it wel; 335
I hem defye, I love hem never a del.22
Now let us speke of mirthe, and stinte23
al this;

Madame Pertelote, so have I blis, 24
Of o thing God hath sent me large grace;25
For whan I see the beautee of your face,340
Ye ben so scarlet-reed about your yën,26
It maketh al my drede for to dyen;
For, also siker27 as In principio,
Mulier est hominis confusio;
Madame, the sentence 28 of this Latin is-
Womman is mannes Ioye and al his blis;346

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14 whether.

27 as surely as.

16 realms.

19 lost. 22 never a bit.

20 almost.

23 cease.

25 favor.

28 meaning.

26 eyes.

29 flew.

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And knew by kynde,1 and by noon other lore,2

That it was pryme,3 and crew with blisful stevene.*

"The sonne," he sayde, "is clomben up on hevene

Fourty degrees and oon, and more, y-wis.5 Madame Pertelote, my worldes blis, 380 Herkneth thise blisful briddes how they singe,

And see the fresshe floures how they springe;

385

Ful is myn hert of revel and solas."
But sodeinly him fil a sorweful cas;6
For ever the latter ende of Ioye is wo.
God woot that worldly Ioye is sone ago;7
And if a rethors coude faire endyte,
He in a chronique saufly9 mighte it write,
As for a sovereyn notabilitee.10

Now every wys man, lat him herkne me;
This storie is al-so trewe, I undertake, 391
As is the book of Launcelot de Lake,
That wommen holde in ful gret reverence.
Now wol I torne agayn to my sentence.
A col-fox,11 ful of sly iniquitee,
That in the grove hadde woned 12 yeres
three,

395

By heigh imaginacioun forn-cast,13 The same night thurgh-out the hegges14 brast 15

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And made Adam fro paradys to go,
Ther as he was ful mery, and wel at ese.
But for I noot, to whom it mighte displese,
If I counseil of wommen wolde blame, 441
Passe over, for I seyde it in my game.
Rede auctours,29 wher they trete of swich
matere,

28

And what thay seyn of wommen ye may here.

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This Chauntecleer, whan he gan him espye,

He wolde han fled, but that the fox anon Seyde, "Gentil sire, allas! wher wol ye gon?

Be ye affrayed of me that am your freend?
Now certes, I were worse than a feend, 466
If I to yow wolde harm or vileinye.
I am nat come your counseil5 for tespye;6
But trewely, the cause of my cominge
Was only for to herkne how that ye singe.
For trewely ye have as mery a stevene,7 471
As eny aungel hath, that is in hevene;
Therwith ye han in musik more felinge
Than hadde Boece, or any that can singe.
My lord your fader (god his soule blesse!)
And eek your moder, of hir gentilesse, 476
Han in myn hous y-been, to my gret ese,
And certes, sire, ful fayn wolde I yow plese.
But for men speke of singing, I wol saye,
So mote I brouke9 wel myn eyen10 tweye,480
Save yow, I herde never man so singe,
As dide your fader in the morweninge;
Certes, it was of herte, al that he song.
And for to make his voys the more strong,
He wolde so peyne him,11 that with both
his yën 10

10

8

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And stonden on his tiptoon13 therwithal,
And strecche forth his nekke long and smal.
And eek he was of swich discrecioun,
That ther nas no man in no regioun
That him in song or wisdom mighte passe.
I have weel rad in daun Burnel the Asse,
Among his vers, how that ther was a cok,
For that a preestes sone yaf him a knok
Upon his leg, whyl he was yong and nyce,
He made him for to lese14 his benefyce. 496
But certeyn, ther nis no comparisoun
Bitwix the wisdom and discrecioun
Of youre fader, and of his subtiltee.
Now singeth, sire, for seinte15 charitee, 500
Let see, conne ye your fader countre-
fete? "16

This Chauntecleer his winges gan to bete,17
As man that coude his tresoun nat espye,
So was he ravisshed with his flaterye.

Allas! ye lordes, many a fals flatour18505 Is in your courtes, and many a losengeour, 19

That plesen yow wel more, by my feith, Than he that soothfastnesse20 unto yow seith.

Redeth Ecclesiaste of flaterye;

Beth21 war,22 ye lordes, of hir trecherye.510 This Chauntecleer stood hye up-on his

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Allas, his wyf ne roghte29 nat of dremes! 520
And on a Friday fil al this meschaunce.
O Venus, that art goddesse of plesaunce,"
Sin that thy servant was this Chauntecleer,
And in thy service dide al his poweer,
More for delyt, than world to multiplye,
Why woldestow31 suffre him on thy day to
dye?

13 tip-toes. 18 flatterer.

22 wary. 26 bore. 29 cared.

14 lose. 19 deceiver. 23 at once. 27 followed. 30 delight.

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