The Canterbury Tales [175]
*forcibly bereft Why should I then to dien be in dread? Lo, eke the tyrant Aristoclides, That lov'd a maiden hight Stimphalides, When that her father slain was on a night, Unto Diana's temple went she right, And hent* the image in her handes two, *caught, clasped From which image she woulde never go; No wight her handes might off it arace,* *pluck away by force Till she was slain right in the selfe* place. *same Now since that maidens hadde such despite To be defouled with man's foul delight, Well ought a wife rather herself to sle,* *slay Than be defouled, as it thinketh me. What shall I say of Hasdrubale's wife, That at Carthage bereft herself of life? For, when she saw the Romans win the town, She took her children all, and skipt adown Into the fire, and rather chose to die, Than any Roman did her villainy. Hath not Lucretia slain herself, alas! At Rome, when that she oppressed* was *ravished Of Tarquin? for her thought it was a shame To live, when she hadde lost her name. The seven maidens of Milesie also Have slain themselves for very dread and woe, Rather than folk of Gaul them should oppress. More than a thousand stories, as I guess, Could I now tell as touching this mattere. When Abradate was slain, his wife so dear <23> Herselfe slew, and let her blood to glide In Abradate's woundes, deep and wide, And said, 'My body at the leaste way There shall no wight defoul, if that I may.' Why should I more examples hereof sayn? Since that so many have themselves slain, Well rather than they would defouled be, I will conclude that it is bet* for me *better To slay myself, than be defouled thus. I will be true unto Arviragus, Or elles slay myself in some mannere, As did Demotione's daughter dear, Because she woulde not defouled be. O Sedasus, it is full great pity To reade how thy daughters died, alas! That slew themselves *for suche manner cas.* *in circumstances of As great a pity was it, or well more, the same kind* The Theban maiden, that for Nicanor Herselfe slew, right for such manner woe. Another Theban maiden did right so; For one of Macedon had her oppress'd, She with her death her maidenhead redress'd.* *vindicated What shall I say of Niceratus' wife, That for such case bereft herself her life? How true was eke to Alcibiades His love, that for to dien rather chese,* *chose Than for to suffer his body unburied be? Lo, what a wife was Alceste?" quoth she. "What saith Homer of good Penelope? All Greece knoweth of her chastity. Pardie, of Laedamia is written thus, That when at Troy was slain Protesilaus, <24> No longer would she live after his day. The same of noble Porcia tell I may; Withoute Brutus coulde she not live, To whom she did all whole her hearte give. <25> The perfect wifehood of Artemisie <26> Honoured is throughout all Barbarie. O Teuta <27> queen, thy wifely chastity To alle wives may a mirror be." <28>
Thus plained Dorigen a day or tway, Purposing ever that she woulde dey;* *die But natheless upon the thirde night Home came Arviragus, the worthy knight, And asked her why that she wept so sore. And she gan weepen ever longer more. "Alas," quoth she, "that ever I was born! Thus have I said," quoth she; "thus have I sworn. " And told him all, as ye have heard before: It needeth not rehearse it you no more. This husband with glad cheer,* in friendly wise, *demeanour Answer'd and said, as I shall you devise.* *relate "Is there aught elles, Dorigen, but this?" "Nay, nay," quoth she, "God help me so, *as wis* *assuredly* This is too much, an* it were Godde's will." *if "Yea, wife," quoth he, "let sleepe what is still, It may be well par'venture yet to-day. Ye shall your trothe holde, by my fay. For, God so wisly* have mercy on me, *certainly *I had well lever sticked for to be,*
Thus plained Dorigen a day or tway, Purposing ever that she woulde dey;* *die But natheless upon the thirde night Home came Arviragus, the worthy knight, And asked her why that she wept so sore. And she gan weepen ever longer more. "Alas," quoth she, "that ever I was born! Thus have I said," quoth she; "thus have I sworn. " And told him all, as ye have heard before: It needeth not rehearse it you no more. This husband with glad cheer,* in friendly wise, *demeanour Answer'd and said, as I shall you devise.* *relate "Is there aught elles, Dorigen, but this?" "Nay, nay," quoth she, "God help me so, *as wis* *assuredly* This is too much, an* it were Godde's will." *if "Yea, wife," quoth he, "let sleepe what is still, It may be well par'venture yet to-day. Ye shall your trothe holde, by my fay. For, God so wisly* have mercy on me, *certainly *I had well lever sticked for to be,*