The Canterbury Tales [169]
cold: *painful sighs* "Eternal God! that through thy purveyance Leadest this world by certain governance, *In idle,* as men say, ye nothing make; *idly, in vain* But, Lord, these grisly fiendly rockes blake, That seem rather a foul confusion Of work, than any fair creation Of such a perfect wise God and stable, Why have ye wrought this work unreasonable? For by this work, north, south, or west, or east, There is not foster'd man, nor bird, nor beast: It doth no good, to my wit, but *annoyeth.* *works mischief* <7> See ye not, Lord, how mankind it destroyeth? A hundred thousand bodies of mankind Have rockes slain, *all be they not in mind;* *though they are Which mankind is so fair part of thy work, forgotten* Thou madest it like to thine owen mark.* *image Then seemed it ye had a great cherte* *love, affection Toward mankind; but how then may it be That ye such meanes make it to destroy? Which meanes do no good, but ever annoy. I wot well, clerkes will say as them lest,* *please By arguments, that all is for the best, Although I can the causes not y-know; But thilke* God that made the wind to blow, *that As keep my lord, this is my conclusion: To clerks leave I all disputation: But would to God that all these rockes blake Were sunken into helle for his sake These rockes slay mine hearte for the fear." Thus would she say, with many a piteous tear.
Her friendes saw that it was no disport To roame by the sea, but discomfort, And shope* them for to playe somewhere else. *arranged They leade her by rivers and by wells, And eke in other places delectables; They dancen, and they play at chess and tables.* *backgammon So on a day, right in the morning-tide, Unto a garden that was there beside, In which that they had made their ordinance* *provision, arrangement Of victual, and of other purveyance, They go and play them all the longe day: And this was on the sixth morrow of May, Which May had painted with his softe showers This garden full of leaves and of flowers: And craft of manne's hand so curiously Arrayed had this garden truely, That never was there garden of such price,* *value, praise *But if* it were the very Paradise. *unless* Th'odour of flowers, and the freshe sight, Would have maked any hearte light That e'er was born, *but if* too great sickness *unless* Or too great sorrow held it in distress; So full it was of beauty and pleasance. And after dinner they began to dance And sing also, save Dorigen alone Who made alway her complaint and her moan, For she saw not him on the dance go That was her husband, and her love also; But natheless she must a time abide And with good hope let her sorrow slide.
Upon this dance, amonge other men, Danced a squier before Dorigen That fresher was, and jollier of array *As to my doom,* than is the month of May. *in my judgment* He sang and danced, passing any man, That is or was since that the world began; Therewith he was, if men should him descrive, One of the *beste faring* men alive, *most accomplished* Young, strong, and virtuous, and rich, and wise, And well beloved, and holden in great price.* *esteem, value And, shortly if the sooth I telle shall, *Unweeting of* this Dorigen at all, *unknown to* This lusty squier, servant to Venus, Which that y-called was Aurelius, Had lov'd her best of any creature Two year and more, as was his aventure;* *fortune But never durst he tell her his grievance; Withoute cup he drank all his penance. He was despaired, nothing durst he say, Save in his songes somewhat would he wray* *betray His woe, as in a general complaining; He said, he lov'd, and was belov'd nothing. Of suche matter made he many lays, Songes, complaintes, roundels, virelays <8> How that he durste not his sorrow tell, But languished,
Her friendes saw that it was no disport To roame by the sea, but discomfort, And shope* them for to playe somewhere else. *arranged They leade her by rivers and by wells, And eke in other places delectables; They dancen, and they play at chess and tables.* *backgammon So on a day, right in the morning-tide, Unto a garden that was there beside, In which that they had made their ordinance* *provision, arrangement Of victual, and of other purveyance, They go and play them all the longe day: And this was on the sixth morrow of May, Which May had painted with his softe showers This garden full of leaves and of flowers: And craft of manne's hand so curiously Arrayed had this garden truely, That never was there garden of such price,* *value, praise *But if* it were the very Paradise. *unless* Th'odour of flowers, and the freshe sight, Would have maked any hearte light That e'er was born, *but if* too great sickness *unless* Or too great sorrow held it in distress; So full it was of beauty and pleasance. And after dinner they began to dance And sing also, save Dorigen alone Who made alway her complaint and her moan, For she saw not him on the dance go That was her husband, and her love also; But natheless she must a time abide And with good hope let her sorrow slide.
Upon this dance, amonge other men, Danced a squier before Dorigen That fresher was, and jollier of array *As to my doom,* than is the month of May. *in my judgment* He sang and danced, passing any man, That is or was since that the world began; Therewith he was, if men should him descrive, One of the *beste faring* men alive, *most accomplished* Young, strong, and virtuous, and rich, and wise, And well beloved, and holden in great price.* *esteem, value And, shortly if the sooth I telle shall, *Unweeting of* this Dorigen at all, *unknown to* This lusty squier, servant to Venus, Which that y-called was Aurelius, Had lov'd her best of any creature Two year and more, as was his aventure;* *fortune But never durst he tell her his grievance; Withoute cup he drank all his penance. He was despaired, nothing durst he say, Save in his songes somewhat would he wray* *betray His woe, as in a general complaining; He said, he lov'd, and was belov'd nothing. Of suche matter made he many lays, Songes, complaintes, roundels, virelays <8> How that he durste not his sorrow tell, But languished,