| |
| A POVRE widwe somdel stope 1 in age, | |
| Was whylom 2 dwelling in a narwe cotage, | |
| Bisyde a grove, stondyng in a dale. | |
| This widwe, of which I telle yow my tale, | |
| Sin thilke 3 day that she was last a wyf, | 5 |
| In pacience ladde a ful simple lyf, | |
| For litel was hir catel 4 and hir rente; | |
| By housbondrye, of such as God hir sente, | |
| She fond 5 hir-self, and eek hir doghtren two. | |
| Three large sowes hadde she, and namo, | 10 |
| Three kyn, and eek a sheep that highte 6 Malle. | |
| Ful sooty was hir bour, 7 and eek hir halle | |
| In which she eet ful many a sclendre meel. | |
| Of poynaunt sauce hir neded never a deel. | |
| No deyntee morsel passed thurgh hir throte; | 15 |
| Hir dyete was accordant to hir cote. | |
| Repleccioun ne made hir nevere syk; | |
| Attempree dyete was al hir phisyk, | |
| And exercyse, and hertes suffisaunce. | |
| The goute lette 8 hir no-thing for to daunce, | 20 |
| Ne poplexye 9 shente 10 nat hir heed; | |
| No wyn ne drank she, neither whyt ne reed; | |
| Hir bord was served most with whyt and blak, | |
| Milk and broun breed, in which she fond no lak, | |
| Seynd 11 bacoun, and somtyme an ey 12 or tweye, | 25 |
| For she was as it were a maner deye. 13 | |
| A yerd she hadde, enclosed al aboute | |
| With stikkes, and a drye dich with-oute, | |
| In which she hadde a cok, hight Chauntecleer, | |
| In al the land of crowing nas 14 his peer. | 30 |
| His vois was merier than the merye orgon | |
| On messe-dayes that in the chirche gon; | |
| Wel sikerer 15 was his crowing in his logge, 16 | |
| Than is a clokke, or an abbey orlogge. 17 | |
| By nature knew he ech ascencioun | 35 |
| Of equinoxial in thilke toun; | |
| For whan degrees fiftene were ascended, 18 | |
| Thanne crew he, that it mighte nat ben amended. | |
| His comb was redder than the fyn coral, | |
| And batailed, 19 as it were a castel-wal. | 40 |
| His bile was blak, and as the jeet it shoon; | |
| Lyk asur were his legges, and his toon; 20 | |
| His nayles whytter than the lilie flour, | |
| And lyk the burned 21 gold was his colour. | |
| This gentil cok hadde in his governaunce | 45 |
| Sevene hennes, for to doon al his plesaunce, | |
| Whiche were his sustres and his paramours, | |
| And wonder lyk to him, as of colours. | |
| Of whiche the faireste hewed on hir throte | |
| Was cleped 22 faire damoysele Pertelote. | 50 |
| Curteys she was, discreet, and debonaire, | |
| And compaignable, and bar hir-self so faire, | |
| Sin thilke day that she was seven night old, | |
| That trewely she hath the herte in hold | |
| Of Chauntecleer loken in every lith; 23 | 55 |
| He loved hir so, that wel was him therwith. | |
| But such a joye was it to here hem singe, | |
| Whan that the brighte sonne gan to springe, | |
| In swete accord, ‘My lief is faren in londe.’ 24 | |
| For thilke 25 tyme, as I have understonde, | 60 |
| Bestes and briddes coude speke and singe. | |
| And so bifel, that in a dawenynge, | |
| As Chauntecleer among his wyves alle | |
| Sat on his perche, that was in the halle, | |
| And next him sat this faire Pertelote, | 65 |
| This Chauntecleer gan gronen in his throte, | |
| As man that in his dreem is drecched 26 sore. | |
| And whan that Pertelote thus herde him rore, | |
| She was agast, and seyde, ‘O herte deere, | |
| What eyleth yow, to grone in this manere? | 70 |
| Ye ben a verray sleper, fy for shame!’ | |
| And he answerde and seyde thus, ‘Madame, | |
| I pray yow, that ye take it nat a-grief: 27 | |
| By God, me mette 28 I was in swich meschief | |
| Right now, that yet myn herte is sore afright. | 75 |
| Now God,’ quod he, ‘my swevene 29 rede 30 aright, | |
| And keep my body out of foul prisoun! | |
| Me mette, 31 how that I romed up and doun | |
| Withinne our yerde, wher-as I saugh a beste, | |
| Was lyk an hound, and wolde han maad areste 32 | 80 |
| Upon my body, and wolde han had me deed. | |
| His colour was bitwixe yelwe and reed; | |
| And tipped was his tail, and bothe his eres | |
| With blak, unlyk the remenant of his heres; | |
| His snowte smal, with glowinge eyen tweye. | 85 |
| Yet of his look for fere almost I deye; | |
| This caused me my groning, douteles.’ | |
| ‘Avoy!’ quod she, ‘fy on yow, herteles! | |
| Allas!’ quod she, ‘for, by that God above, | |
| Now han ye lost myn herte and al my love; | 90 |
| I can nat love a coward, by my feith. | |
| For certes, what, so any womman seith, | |
| We alle desyren, if it mighte be, | |
| To han housebondes hardy, wyse, and free, | |
| And secree, and no nigard, ne no fool, | 95 |
| Ne him that is agast of every tool, 33 | |
| Ne noon avauntour, 34 by that God above! | |
| How dorste ye sayn for shame unto youre love, | |
| That any thing mighte make yow aferd? | |
| Have ye no mannes herte, and han a berd? | 100 |
| Allas! and conne ye been agast of swevenis? 35 | |
| No-thing, God wot, but vanitee, in sweven is. | |
| Swevenes engendren of 36 replecciouns, | |
| And ofte of fume, 37 and of complecciouns, 38 | |
| Whan humours been to habundant in a wight. | 105 |
| Certes this dreem, which ye han met to-night, | |
| Cometh of the grete superfluitee | |
| Of youre rede colera, 39 pardee, 40 | |
| Which causeth folk to dreden in here dremes | |
| Of arwes, and of fyr with rede lemes, 41 | 110 |
| Of grete bestes, that they wol hem byte, | |
| Of contek, 42 and of whelpes grete and lyte; 43 | |
| Right 44 as the humour of malencolye | |
| Causeth ful many a man, in sleep, to crye, | |
| For fere of blake beres, or boles 45 blake, | 115 |
| Or elles, blake develes wole him take. | |
| Of othere humours coude I telle also, | |
| That werken many a man in sleep ful wo; | |
| But I wol passe as lightly as I can. | |
| Lo Catoun, which that was so wys a man, | 120 |
| Seyde he nat thus, ne do no fors of 46 dremes? | |
| Now, sire,’ quod she, ‘whan we flee fro the bemes, 47 | |
| For Goddes love, as tak som laxatyf; | |
| Up peril of my soule, and of my lyf, | |
| I counseille yow the beste, I wol nat lye, | 125 |
| That both of colere, and of malencolye | |
| Ye purge yow; and for ye shul nat tarie | |
| Though in this toun is noon apotecarie, | |
| I shal my-self to herbes techen 48 yow, | |
| That shul ben for your hele, 49 and for your prow; 50 | 130 |
| And in our yerd tho herbes shal I fynde, | |
| The whiche han of here propretee, by kynde, 51 | |
| To purgen yow binethe, and eek above. | |
| Forget not this, for Goddes owene love! | |
| Ye been ful colerik of compleccioun. | 135 |
| Ware 52 the sonne in his ascencioun | |
| Ne fynde yow nat repleet 53 of humours hote; | |
| And if it do, I dar wel leye 54 a grote, | |
| That ye shul have a fevere terciane, | |
| Or an agu, that may be youre bane. 55 | 140 |
| A day or two ye shul have digestyves | |
| Of wormes, er ye take your laxatyves, | |
| Of lauriol, 56 centaure, 57 and fumetere, 58 | |
| Or elles of ellebor, that groweth there, | |
| Of catapuce, 59 or of gaytres 60 beryis, | 145 |
| Of erbe yve, 61 growing in our yerd, that mery 62 is; | |
| Pekke hem up right as they growe, and ete hem in. | |
| Be mery, housbond, for your fader kyn! 63 | |
| Dredeth no dreem; I can say yow na-more.’ | |
| ‘Madame,’ quod he, ‘graunt mercy 64 of your lore. | 150 |
| But natheles, as touching daun Catoun, | |
| That hath of wisdom such a gret renoun, | |
| Though that he bad no dremes for to drede, | |
| By God, men may in olde bokes rede | |
| Of many a man, more of auctoritee | 155 |
| Than evere Catoun was, so moot I thee, 65 | |
| That al the revers seyn of this sentence, | |
| And han wel founden by experience, | |
| That dremes ben significaciouns, | |
| As wel of joye as tribulaciouns | 160 |
| That folk enduren in this lyf present. | |
| Ther nedeth make of this noon argument; | |
| The verray preve 66 sheweth it in dede. | |
| Oon of the gretteste auctours that men rede 67 | |
| Seith thus, that whylom two felawes wente | 165 |
| On pilgrimage, in a ful good entente; | |
| And happed so, thay come into a toun, | |
| Wher-as ther was swich congregacioun | |
| Of peple, and eek so streit of herbergage, 68 | |
| That they ne founde as muche as O 69 cotage, | 170 |
| In which they bothe mighte y-logged 70 be. | |
| Wherfor thay mosten, of necessitee, | |
| As for that night, departen 71 compaignye; | |
| And ech of hem goth to his hostelrye, | |
| And took his logging as it wolde falle. 72 | 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, 73 or his fortune, | |
| That us governeth alle as in commune. | 180 |
| And so bifel, that, longe er it were day, | |
| This man mette 74 in his bed, ther-as 75 he lay, | |
| How that his felawe gan up-on him calle, | |
| And seyde, ‘allas! for in an oxes stalle | |
| This night I shal be mordred ther 76 I lye. | 185 |
| Now help me, dere brother, or I dye; | |
| In alle haste com to me,’ he sayde. | |
| This man out of his sleep for fere abrayde; 77 | |
| But whan that he was wakned of his sleep, | |
| He turned him, and took of this no keep; 78 | 190 |
| Him thoughte his dreem nas but a vanitee. | |
| Thus twyes in his sleping dremed he. | |
| And atte thridde tyme yet his felawe | |
| Com, as him thoughte, and seide, ‘I am now slawe; 79 | |
| Bihold my bloody woundes, depe and wyde! | 195 |
| Arys up erly in the morwe-tyde, | |
| And at the west gate of the toun,’ quod he, | |
| ‘A carte ful of donge ther shaltow see, | |
| In which my body is hid ful prively; | |
| Do thilke carte arresten boldely. | 200 |
