The Canterbury Tales [247]
it; So doth my lord, and that me grieveth sore. God it amend; I can say now no more."
"Thereof *no force,* good Yeoman, "quoth our Host; *no matter* "Since of the conning* of thy lord, thou know'st, *knowledge Tell how he doth, I pray thee heartily, Since that be is so crafty and so sly.* *wise Where dwelle ye, if it to telle be?" "In the suburbes of a town," quoth he, "Lurking in hernes* and in lanes blind, *corners Where as these robbers and these thieves by kind* *nature Holde their privy fearful residence, As they that dare not show their presence, So fare we, if I shall say the soothe."* *truth "Yet," quoth our Hoste, "let me talke to thee; Why art thou so discolour'd of thy face?" "Peter!" quoth he, "God give it harde grace, I am so us'd the hote fire to blow, That it hath changed my colour, I trow; I am not wont in no mirror to pry, But swinke* sore, and learn to multiply. <5> *labour We blunder* ever, and poren** in the fire, *toil **peer And, for all that, we fail of our desire For ever we lack our conclusion To muche folk we do illusion, And borrow gold, be it a pound or two, Or ten or twelve, or many summes mo', And make them weenen,* at the leaste way, *fancy That of a pounde we can make tway. Yet is it false; and aye we have good hope It for to do, and after it we grope:* *search, strive But that science is so far us beforn, That we may not, although we had it sworn, It overtake, it slides away so fast; It will us make beggars at the last." While this Yeoman was thus in his talking, This Canon drew him near, and heard all thing Which this Yeoman spake, for suspicion Of menne's speech ever had this Canon: For Cato saith, that he that guilty is, <6> Deemeth all things be spoken of him y-wis;* *surely Because of that he gan so nigh to draw To his Yeoman, that he heard all his saw; And thus he said unto his Yeoman tho* *then "Hold thou thy peace,and speak no wordes mo': For if thou do, thou shalt *it dear abie.* *pay dearly for it* Thou slanderest me here in this company And eke discoverest that thou shouldest hide." "Yea," quoth our Host, "tell on, whatso betide; Of all his threatening reck not a mite." "In faith," quoth he, "no more do I but lite."* *little And when this Canon saw it would not be But his Yeoman would tell his privity,* *secrets He fled away for very sorrow and shame.
"Ah!" quoth the Yeoman, "here shall rise a game;* *some diversion All that I can anon I will you tell, Since he is gone; the foule fiend him quell!* *destroy For ne'er hereafter will I with him meet, For penny nor for pound, I you behete.* *promise He that me broughte first unto that game, Ere that he die, sorrow have he and shame. For it is earnest* to me, by my faith; *a serious matter That feel I well, what so any man saith; And yet for all my smart, and all my grief, For all my sorrow, labour, and mischief,* *trouble I coulde never leave it in no wise. Now would to God my witte might suffice To tellen all that longeth to that art! But natheless yet will I telle part; Since that my lord is gone, I will not spare; Such thing as that I know, I will declare."
Notes to the Prologue to the Canon's Yeoman's Tale
1. "The introduction," says Tyrwhitt, "of the Canon's Yeoman to tell a Tale at a time when so many of the original characters remain to be called upon, appears a little extraordinary. It should seem that some sudden resentment had determined Chaucer to interrupt the regular course of his work, in order to insert a satire against the alchemists. That their pretended science was much cultivated about this time, and produced its usual evils, may fairly be inferred from the Act, which was passed soon after, 5 H. IV. c. iv., to make it felony
"Thereof *no force,* good Yeoman, "quoth our Host; *no matter* "Since of the conning* of thy lord, thou know'st, *knowledge Tell how he doth, I pray thee heartily, Since that be is so crafty and so sly.* *wise Where dwelle ye, if it to telle be?" "In the suburbes of a town," quoth he, "Lurking in hernes* and in lanes blind, *corners Where as these robbers and these thieves by kind* *nature Holde their privy fearful residence, As they that dare not show their presence, So fare we, if I shall say the soothe."* *truth "Yet," quoth our Hoste, "let me talke to thee; Why art thou so discolour'd of thy face?" "Peter!" quoth he, "God give it harde grace, I am so us'd the hote fire to blow, That it hath changed my colour, I trow; I am not wont in no mirror to pry, But swinke* sore, and learn to multiply. <5> *labour We blunder* ever, and poren** in the fire, *toil **peer And, for all that, we fail of our desire For ever we lack our conclusion To muche folk we do illusion, And borrow gold, be it a pound or two, Or ten or twelve, or many summes mo', And make them weenen,* at the leaste way, *fancy That of a pounde we can make tway. Yet is it false; and aye we have good hope It for to do, and after it we grope:* *search, strive But that science is so far us beforn, That we may not, although we had it sworn, It overtake, it slides away so fast; It will us make beggars at the last." While this Yeoman was thus in his talking, This Canon drew him near, and heard all thing Which this Yeoman spake, for suspicion Of menne's speech ever had this Canon: For Cato saith, that he that guilty is, <6> Deemeth all things be spoken of him y-wis;* *surely Because of that he gan so nigh to draw To his Yeoman, that he heard all his saw; And thus he said unto his Yeoman tho* *then "Hold thou thy peace,and speak no wordes mo': For if thou do, thou shalt *it dear abie.* *pay dearly for it* Thou slanderest me here in this company And eke discoverest that thou shouldest hide." "Yea," quoth our Host, "tell on, whatso betide; Of all his threatening reck not a mite." "In faith," quoth he, "no more do I but lite."* *little And when this Canon saw it would not be But his Yeoman would tell his privity,* *secrets He fled away for very sorrow and shame.
"Ah!" quoth the Yeoman, "here shall rise a game;* *some diversion All that I can anon I will you tell, Since he is gone; the foule fiend him quell!* *destroy For ne'er hereafter will I with him meet, For penny nor for pound, I you behete.* *promise He that me broughte first unto that game, Ere that he die, sorrow have he and shame. For it is earnest* to me, by my faith; *a serious matter That feel I well, what so any man saith; And yet for all my smart, and all my grief, For all my sorrow, labour, and mischief,* *trouble I coulde never leave it in no wise. Now would to God my witte might suffice To tellen all that longeth to that art! But natheless yet will I telle part; Since that my lord is gone, I will not spare; Such thing as that I know, I will declare."
Notes to the Prologue to the Canon's Yeoman's Tale
1. "The introduction," says Tyrwhitt, "of the Canon's Yeoman to tell a Tale at a time when so many of the original characters remain to be called upon, appears a little extraordinary. It should seem that some sudden resentment had determined Chaucer to interrupt the regular course of his work, in order to insert a satire against the alchemists. That their pretended science was much cultivated about this time, and produced its usual evils, may fairly be inferred from the Act, which was passed soon after, 5 H. IV. c. iv., to make it felony