The Canterbury Tales [173]
an hour it is, I undertake, Since I you bade our supper for to make, When that these worthy men wente with me Into my study, where my bookes be." "Sir," quoth this squier, "when it liketh you. It is all ready, though ye will right now." "Go we then sup," quoth he, "as for the best; These amorous folk some time must have rest." At after supper fell they in treaty What summe should this master's guerdon* be, *reward To remove all the rockes of Bretagne, And eke from Gironde <16> to the mouth of Seine. He made it strange,* and swore, so God him save, *a matter of Less than a thousand pound he would not have, difficulty* *Nor gladly for that sum he would not gon.* *see note <17>* Aurelius with blissful heart anon Answered thus; "Fie on a thousand pound! This wide world, which that men say is round, I would it give, if I were lord of it. This bargain is full-driv'n, for we be knit;* *agreed Ye shall be payed truly by my troth. But looke, for no negligence or sloth, Ye tarry us here no longer than to-morrow." "Nay," quoth the clerk, *"have here my faith to borrow."* *I pledge my To bed is gone Aurelius when him lest, faith on it* And well-nigh all that night he had his rest, What for his labour, and his hope of bliss, His woeful heart *of penance had a liss.* *had a respite from suffering* Upon the morrow, when that it was day, Unto Bretagne they took the righte way, Aurelius and this magician beside, And be descended where they would abide: And this was, as the bookes me remember, The colde frosty season of December. Phoebus wax'd old, and hued like latoun,* *brass That in his hote declinatioun Shone as the burned gold, with streames* bright; *beams But now in Capricorn adown he light, Where as he shone full pale, I dare well sayn. The bitter frostes, with the sleet and rain, Destroyed have the green in every yard. *courtyard, garden Janus sits by the fire with double beard, And drinketh of his bugle horn the wine: Before him stands the brawn of tusked swine And "nowel"* crieth every lusty man *Noel <18> Aurelius, in all that ev'r he can, Did to his master cheer and reverence, And prayed him to do his diligence To bringe him out of his paines smart, Or with a sword that he would slit his heart. This subtle clerk such ruth* had on this man, *pity That night and day he sped him, that he can, To wait a time of his conclusion; This is to say, to make illusion, By such an appearance of jugglery (I know no termes of astrology), That she and every wight should ween and say, That of Bretagne the rockes were away, Or else they were sunken under ground. So at the last he hath a time found To make his japes* and his wretchedness *tricks Of such a *superstitious cursedness.* *detestable villainy* His tables Toletanes <19> forth he brought, Full well corrected, that there lacked nought, Neither his collect, nor his expanse years, Neither his rootes, nor his other gears, As be his centres, and his arguments, And his proportional convenients For his equations in everything. And by his eighte spheres in his working, He knew full well how far Alnath <20> was shove From the head of that fix'd Aries above, That in the ninthe sphere consider'd is. Full subtilly he calcul'd all this. When he had found his firste mansion, He knew the remnant by proportion; And knew the rising of his moone well, And in whose face, and term, and every deal; And knew full well the moone's mansion Accordant to his operation; And knew also his other observances, For such illusions and such meschances,* *wicked devices As heathen folk used in thilke days. For which no longer made he delays; But through his magic, for a day or tway, <21> It seemed all the rockes were away.
Aurelius, which yet despaired is Whe'er* he shall have his love, or fare
Aurelius, which yet despaired is Whe'er* he shall have his love, or fare