That every man shuld han ylike his part

As of a soun or savour of a fart?

O nice proude cherl, I shrewe his face.

"

Lo, sires," quod the lord, with harde grace, "Who ever herd of swiche a thing or now?

To every man ylike? tell me how.

It is an impossible, it may not be.
Ey, nice cherl, God let him never the.
The rombling of a fart, and every soun,
N'is but of aire reverberatioun,

And ever it wasteth lite and lite away;
Ther n'is no man can demen, by my fay,
If that it were departed equally.

What? lo my cherl, lo yet how shrewedly
Unto my confessour to-day he spake ;
I hold him certain a demoniake.

Now ete your mete, and let the cherl go play,
Let him go honge himself a devil way."
Now stood the lordes squier atte bord,
That carf his mete, and herde word by word
Of all this thing, of which I have you sayd.
My lord," quod he, "be ye not evil apaid,
I conde telle for a goune-cloth

To you, sire frere, so that ye be not wroth,
How that this fart shuld even ydeled be
Amonge your covent, if it liked thee."

"Tell," quod the lord, "and thou shalt have anon goune-cloth, by God and by Seint John." [faire, My lord," quod he, "whan that the weder is Withouten winde, or pertourbing of aire, Let bring a cart-whele here into this hall, But loke that it have his spokes all; Twelf spokes hath a cart-whele communly; And bring me than twelf freres, wete ye why? For threttene is a covent as I gesse: Your confessour here for his worthinesse Shal parfourme up the noumbre of his covent. Than shall they knele adoun by on assent, And to every spokes end in this manere Fal sadly lay his nose shal a frere; Your noble confessour, ther God him save, Shal hold his nose upright under the nave. Than shal this cherl, with bely stif and tought As any tabour, hider ben ybrought; And set him on the whele right of this cart Upon the nave, and make him let a fart,

And

ye shull seen, up peril of my lif,

By veray preef that is demonstratif,
That equally the soun of it wol wende,
And eke the stinke, unto the spokes ende,
are that this worthy man, your confessour,
(Because he is a man of gret honour)
al han the firste fruit, as reson is.
The noble usage of freres yet it is,
The worthy men of hem shul first be served.
And certainly be hath it wel deserved;
He hath to-day taught us so mochel good,
With preching in the pulpit ther he stood,
That I may vouchesauf, I say for me,
He hadde the firste smel of fartes three,
And so wold all his brethren hardely,
Be bereth him so faire and holyly."

The lord, the lady, and eche man, save the frere, Sayden, that Jankin spake in this matere

wel as Euclide, or elles Ptholomee.
Touching the cherl, they sayden, subtiltee
And highe wit made him speken as he spake;
He is no fool, ne no demoniake.
And Jankin hath ywonne a newe goune;
My tale is don, we ben almost at toune.

THE CLERKES PROLOGUE. "SIRE Clerk of Oxenforde," our Hoste said, "Ye ride as stille and coy, as doth a maid, Were newe spoused, sitting at the bord: This day ne herd I of your tonge a word. I trow ye studie abouten som sophime: But Salomon saith, that every thing hath time. For Goddes sake as beth of better chere, It is no time for to studien here. Tell us som mery tale by your fay; For what man that is entred in a play, He nedes most unto the play assent. But precheth not, as freres don in Lent, To make us for our olde sinnes wepe, Ne that thy tale make us not to slepe.

"Tell us som mery thing of aventures, Your termes, your coloures, and your figures, Kepe hem in store, til so be ye endite Hie stile, as whan that men to kinges write. Speketh so plain at this time, I you pray, That we may understonden what ye say."

This worthy Clerk benignely answerde;
"Hoste," quod he, "I am under your yerde,
Ye have of us as now the governance,
And therfore wolde I do you obeysance,
As fer as reson asketh hardely:
I wol you tell a tale, which that I
Lerned at Padowe of a worthy clerk,
As preved by his wordes and his werk.
He is now ded, and nailed in his cheste,
I pray to God so yeve his soule reste.

"Fraunceis Petrark, the laureat poete,
Highte this clerk, whos rethorike swete
Enlumined all Itaille of poetrie,
As Lynyan did of philosophie,
Or law, or other art particulere:

But Deth, that wol not suffre us dwellen here,
But as it were a twinkling of an eye,
Hem both hath slaine, and alle we shul dye.
"But forth to tellen of this worthy man,
That taughte me this tale, as I began,
I say that first he with hie stile enditeth
(Or he the body of his tale writeth)
A proheme, in the which descriveth he
Piemont, and of Saluces the contree,
And speketh of Apennin the hilles hie,
That ben the boundes of west Lumbardie:
And of mount Vesulus in special,
Wher as the Poo out of a welle smal
Taketh his firste springing and his sours,
That estward ay encreseth in his cours
To Emelie ward, to Ferare, and Venise,
The which a longe thing were to devise.
And trewely, as to my jugement,
Me thinketh it a thing impertinent,
Save that he wol conveyen his matere:
But this is the tale which that ye mow here."

THE CLERKES TALE.

THER is right at the west side of Itaille
Doun at the rote of Vesulus the cold,
A lusty plain, habundant of vitaille,

Ther many a toun and tour thou maist behold,
That founded were in time of fathers old,
And many another delitable sighte,
And Saluces this noble contree highte.

A markis wbilom lord was of that lond,
As were his worthy elders him before,
And obeysant, ay redy to his hond,
Were all his lieges, bothe lesse and more:
Thus in delit he liveth, and hath don yore,
Beloved and drad, thurgh favour of fortune,
Both of his lordes, and of his commune.

Therwith he was, to speken of linage,
The gentilest yborne of Lumbardie,

A faire person, and strong, and yong of age,
And ful of honour and of curtesie:
Discret ynough, his contree for to gie,
Sauf in som thinges that he was to blame,
And Walter was this yonge lordes name.

I blame him thus, that he considered nought
In time coming what might him befide,
But on his lust present was all his thought,
And for to hauke and hunt on every side:
Wel neigh all other cures let he slide,
And eke he n'old (and that was worst of all)
Wedden no wif for ought that might befall.

Only that point his peple bare so sore,'
That flockmel on a day to him they went,
And on of hem, that wisest was of lore,
(Or elles that the lord wold best assent
That he shuld tell him what the peple ment,
Or elles coud he wel shew swiche matere)
He to the markis said as ye shull here.

"O noble markis, your. humanitee
Assureth us and yeveth us hardinesse,
As oft as time is of necessitee,

That we to you mow tell our hevinesse :
Accepteth, lord, than of your gentillesse,
That we with pitous herte unto you plaine,
And let your eres nat my vois disdaine.

"Al have I not to don in this matere
More than another man hath in this place,
Yet for as moch as ye, my lord so dere,
Han alway shewed me favour and grace,
I dare the better aske of you a space
Of audience, to shewen our request,
And ye, my lord, to don right as you lest.

"For certes, lord, so wel us liketh you
And all your werke, and ever have don, that we
Ne couden not ourself devisen how
We mighten live in more felicitee:
Save o thing, lord, if it your wille be,
That for to be a wedded man you lest,
Than were your peple in soverain hertes rest.

"Boweth your nekke under the blisful yok
Of soveraintee, and not of servise,
Which that men clepen spousaile or wedlok:
And thinketh, lord, among your thoughtes wise,
How that our dayes passe in sondry wise;
For though we slepe, or wake, or rome, or ride,
Ay fleth the time, it wol no man abide.

And though your grene youthe floure as yet,
In crepeth age alway as still as ston,
And deth manaseth every age, and smit
In eche estat, for ther escapeth non:
And al so certain, as we knowe cche on
That we shul die, as uncertain we all
Ben of that day whan deth shal on us fall.

"Accepteth than of us the trewe entent,
That never yet refuseden your hest,
And we wol, lord, if that ye wol assent,
Chese you a wife in short time at the mest,
Borne of the gentillest and of the best
Of all this lond, so that it oughte seme
Honour to God and you, as we can deme.

"Deliver us out of all this besy drede,
And take a wif, for highe Goddes sake:
For if it so befell, as God forbede,

That thurgh your deth your linage shulde slake,
And that a strange successour shuld take
Your heritage, o! wo were us on live:
Wherfore we pray you hastily to wive."

Hir meke praiere and hir pitous chere
Made the markis for to han pitee.
"Ye wol," quod he, " min owen peple dere,
To that I never er thought constrainen me.
I me rejoyced of my libertee,

That selden time is found in mariage;
Ther I was free, I moste ben in servage.

"But natheles I see your trewe entent,
And trust upon your wit, and have don ay:
Wherfore of my free will I wol assent
To wedden me, as sone as ever I may.
But ther as ye han profred me to-day
To chesen me a wif, I you relese

That chois, and pray you of that profer cese.

"For God it wot, that children often ben
Unlike hir worthy eldres hem before,
Bountee cometh al of God, not of the stren
Of which they ben ygendred and ybore:
I trust in Goddes bountee, and therfore
My mariage, and min estat, and rest
I him betake, he may don as him lest.

"Let me alone in chesing of my wif,
That charge upon my bak I wol endure:
But I you pray, and charge upon your lif,
That what wif that I take, ye me assure
To worship hire while that hire lif may dure,
In word and werk both here and elles where,
As she an emperoures doughter were.

"And forthermore this shuln ye swere, that ye Again my chois shul never grutch ne strive. For sith I shul forgo my libertee

At your request, as ever mote I thrive,
Ther as min berte is set, ther wol I wive:
And but ye wol assent in swiche manere,
I pray you speke no more of this matere."
With hertly will they sworen and assenten
To all this thing, ther saide not o wight nay:
Beseching him of grace, or that they wenten,
That he wold granten hem a certain day
Of his spousaile, as sone as ever he may,
For yet alway the peple somwhat dred,
Lest that this markis wolde no wif wed.

He granted hem a day, swiche as him lest,
On which he wold be wedded sikerly,
And said he did all this at hir request;
And they with humble herte ful buxumly
Kneling upon hir knees ful reverently
Him thonken all, and thus they han an end
Of hir entente, and home agen they wend.

The day of wedding came, but no wight can
Tellen what woman that it shulde be,
For which mervaille wondred many a man,
And saiden, whan they were in privetee,
"Wol not our lord yet leve his vanitee?
Wol he not wedde? alas, alas the waile!
Why wol he thus himself and us begile?"

But natheles this markis hath do make
Of gemmes, sette in gold and in asure,
Broches and ringes, for Grisildes sake,
And of hire clothing toke he the mesure
Of a maiden like unto hire stature,
And eke of other ornamentes all,
That unto swiche a wedding shulde fall.

The time of underne of the same day
Approcheth, that this wedding shulde be,
And all the paleis put was in array,
Both halle and chambres, eche in his degree,
Houses of office stuffed with plentee
Ther mayst thou see of deinteous vitaille,
That may be found, as fer as lasteth Itaille.

This real markis richely arraide,
Lordes and ladies in his compagnie,
The which unto the feste weren praide,
And of his retenue the bachelerie,
With many a soun of sondry melodie,
Unto the village, of the which I told,
In this array the righte way they hold.

Grisilde of this (God wot) ful innocent,
That for hire shapen was all this array,
To fetchen water at a welle is went,
And cometh home as sone as ever she may.
For wel she had herd say, that thilke day
The markis shulde wedde, and, if she might,
She wolde fayn han seen som of that sight.

She thought, "I wol with other maidens stond,
That ben my felawes, in our dore, and see
The markisesse, and therto wol I fond
To don at home, as sone as it may be,
The labour which that longeth unto me,
And than I may at leiser hire behold,
If she this way unto the castel hold."

And as she wolde over the threswold gon,
The markis came and gan hire for to call,
And she set doun hire water-pot anon
Beside the threswold in an oxes stall,
And doun upon hire knees she gan to fall.
And with sad countenance kneleth still,
Till she had herd what was the lordes will.

This thoughtful markis spake unto this maid
Ful soberly, and said in this manere:
"Wher is your fader, Grisildis?" he said.
And she with reverence in humble chere
Answered,." Lord, he is al redy here."
Aud in she goth withouten lenger lette,
And to the markis she hire fader fette.

He by the bond than toke this poure man,
And saide thus, whan he him had aside:
"Janicola, I neither may ne can
Lenger the plesance of min herte hide,
If that thou vouchesauf, what so betide,
Thy doughter wol I take or that I wend
As for my wife, unto hire lives end.

"Thou lovest me, that wot I wel certain,
And art my faithful liegemau ybore,
And all that liketh me, I dare wel sain
It liketh thee, and specially therfore
Tell me that point, that I have said before,
If that thou wolt unto this purpos drawe,
To taken me as for thy son in lawe."

This soden cas this man astoned so,
That red he wex, abaist, and al quaking
He stood, unnethes said he wordes mo,
But only thus; "Lord," quod he, “ my willing
Is as ye wol, ne ageins your liking

I wol no thing, min owen lord so dere,
Right as you list, governeth this matere."

"Than wol I," quod this markis softely, "That in thy chambre, I, and thou, and she, Have a collation, and wost thou why? For I wol ask hire, if it hire wille be To be my wif, and reule hire after me: And all this shal be don in thy presence, I wol not speke out of thin audience."

And in the chambre, while they were aboute
The tretee, which as ye shul after here,
The peple came into the hous withoute,
And wondred hem, in how honest manere
Ententifly she kept hire fader dere:
But utterly Grisildis wonder might,

For never erst ne saw she swiche a sight.、

No wonder is though that she be astoned,
To see so gret a gest come in that place,
She never was to non swiche gestes woned,
For which she loked with ful pale face.
But shortly forth this matere for to chace,
Thise arn the wordes that the markis said
To this benigne, veray, faithful maid.

"Grisilde," he said, "ye shuln wel understond,
It liketh to your fader and to me,
That I you wedde, and eke it may so stond
As I suppose, ye wol that it so be:

But thise demaundes aske I first," (quod he)
"That sin it shal be don in hasty wise,
Wol ye assent, or elles you avise?

"I say this, be ye redy with good herte
To all my lust, and that I freely may
As me best thinketh do you laugh or smerte,
And never ye to grutchen, night ne day,
And eke whan I say ya, ye say not nay,
Neither by word, ne frouning countenance?
Swere this, and here I swere our alliance."
Wondring upon this thing, quaking for drede,
She saide; "Lord, indigne and unworthy
Am I, to thilke honour, that ye me bede,
But as ye wol yourself, right so wol I:
And here I swere, that never willingly
In werk, ne thought, I ni'll you disobeie
For to be ded, though me were loth to deie."

"This is ynough, Grisilde min," quod he.
And forth he goth with a ful sobre chere,
Out at the dore, and after than came she,
And to the peple he said in this manere:
"This is my wif," quod he, "that stondeth here.
Honoureth her, and loveth hire, pray,
Who so me loveth, ther n'is no more to say."

And for that nothing of hire olde gere
She shulde bring into his hous, he bad
That women shuld despoilen hire right there,
Of which thise ladies weren nothing glad
To handle hire clothes wherin she was clad:
But natheles this maiden bright of hew
Fro foot to hed they clothed han all new.

Hire heres han they kempt, that lay untressed
Ful rudely, and with hir fingres smal
A coroune on hire hed they han ydressed,
And sette hire ful of nouches gret and smal:
Of hire array what shuld I make a tale?
Unneth the peple hire knew for hire fairnesse,
Whan she transmewed was in swiche richesse.

This markis bath hire spoused with a ring
Brought for the same cause, and than hire sette
Upon an hors snow-white, and wel ambling,
And to his paleis, or he lenger lette,
(With joyful peple, that hire lad and mette)
Conveyed hire, and thus the day they spende
In revel, till the Sonne gan descende.

And shortly forth this tale for to chace,

I say, that to this newe markisesse

God hath swiche favour sent hire of his grace, That it ne semeth not by likelinesse

That she was borne and fed in rudenesse,

As in a cote, or in an oxes stall,
But nourished in an emperoures hall.

To every wight she waxen is so dere,
And worshipful, that folk ther she was bore,
And fro hire birthe knew hire yeré by yere,
Unnethes trowed they, but dorst han swore,
That to Janicle, of which I spake before,
She doughter n'as, for as by conjecture
Hem thoughte she was another creature.

For though that ever vertuous was she,
She was encresed in swiche excellence
Of thewes good, yset in high bountee,
And so discrete, and faire of eloquence,
So benigne, and so digne of reverence,
And coude so the peples herte embrace,
That eche hire loveth that loketh on hire face.

Not only of Saluces in the toun
Published was the bountee of hire name,
But eke beside in many a regioun,
If on saith wel, another saith the same:
So spredeth of hire hie bountee the fame,
That men and women, yong as wel as old,
Gon to Saluces upon hire to behold.

Thus Walter lowly, nay but really,
Wedded with fortunat honestetee,
In Goddes pees liveth ful esily

At home, and grace ynough outward had he:
And for he saw that under low degree
Was honest vertue hid, the peple him held
A prudent man, and that is seen ful seld.

Not only this Grisildis thurgh hire wit
Coude all the fete of wifly homlinesse,
But eke whan that the cas required it,
The comune profit coude she redresse:
Ther n'as discord, rancour, ne hevinesse
In all the lond, that she ne coude appese,
And wisely bring hem all in hertes esc.