The Canterbury Tales [301]
what way we trace; And rightful folk should go, after they die, To Heav'n; and showed him the galaxy.
Then show'd he him the little earth that here is, *To regard* the heaven's quantity; *by comparison with And after show'd he him the nine spheres; <5> And after that the melody heard he, That cometh of those spheres thrice three, That wells of music be and melody In this world here, and cause of harmony.
Then said he him, since earthe was so lite,* *small And full of torment and of *harde grace,* *evil fortune That he should not him in this world delight. Then told he him, in certain yeares' space, That ev'ry star should come into his place, Where it was first; and all should *out of mind,* *perish from memory* That in this world is done of all mankind.
Then pray'd him Scipio, to tell him all The way to come into that Heaven's bliss; And he said: "First know thyself immortal, And look aye busily that thou work and wiss* *guide affairs To common profit, and thou shalt not miss To come swiftly unto that place dear, That full of bliss is, and of soules clear.* *noble <6>
"And breakers of the law, the sooth to sayn, And likerous* folk, after that they be dead, *lecherous Shall whirl about the world always in pain, Till many a world be passed, *out of dread;* *without doubt* And then, forgiven all their wicked deed, They shalle come unto that blissful place, To which to come God thee sende grace!"
The day gan failen, and the darke night, That reaveth* beastes from their business, *taketh away Berefte me my book for lack of light, And to my bed I gan me for to dress,* *prepare Full fill'd of thought and busy heaviness; For both I hadde thing which that I n'old,* *would not And eke I had not that thing that I wo'ld.
But, finally, my spirit at the last, Forweary* of my labour all that day, *utterly wearied Took rest, that made me to sleepe fast; And in my sleep I mette,* as that I say, *dreamed How Africane, right in the *self array* *same garb* That Scipio him saw before that tide,* *time Was come, and stood right at my bedde's side.
The weary hunter, sleeping in his bed, To wood again his mind goeth anon; The judge dreameth how his pleas be sped; The carter dreameth how his cartes go'n; The rich of gold, the knight fights with his fone;* *foes The sicke mette he drinketh of the tun; <7> The lover mette he hath his lady won.
I cannot say, if that the cause were, For* I had read of Africane beforn, *because That made me to mette that he stood there; But thus said he; "Thou hast thee so well borne In looking of mine old book all to-torn, Of which Macrobius *raught not a lite,* *recked not a little* That *somedeal of thy labour would I quite."* *I would reward you for some of your labour* Cytherea, thou blissful Lady sweet! That with thy firebrand dauntest *when thee lest,* *when you please* That madest me this sweven* for to mette, *dream Be thou my help in this, for thou may'st best! As wisly* as I saw the north-north-west, <8> *surely When I began my sweven for to write, So give me might to rhyme it and endite.* *write down
This foresaid Africane me hent* anon, *took And forth with him unto a gate brought Right of a park, walled with greene stone; And o'er the gate, with letters large y-wrought, There were verses written, as me thought, On either half, of full great difference, Of which I shall you say the plain sentence.* *meaning
"Through me men go into the blissful place <9> Of hearte's heal and deadly woundes' cure; Through me men go unto the well of grace; Where green and lusty May shall ever dure; This is the
Then show'd he him the little earth that here is, *To regard* the heaven's quantity; *by comparison with And after show'd he him the nine spheres; <5> And after that the melody heard he, That cometh of those spheres thrice three, That wells of music be and melody In this world here, and cause of harmony.
Then said he him, since earthe was so lite,* *small And full of torment and of *harde grace,* *evil fortune That he should not him in this world delight. Then told he him, in certain yeares' space, That ev'ry star should come into his place, Where it was first; and all should *out of mind,* *perish from memory* That in this world is done of all mankind.
Then pray'd him Scipio, to tell him all The way to come into that Heaven's bliss; And he said: "First know thyself immortal, And look aye busily that thou work and wiss* *guide affairs To common profit, and thou shalt not miss To come swiftly unto that place dear, That full of bliss is, and of soules clear.* *noble <6>
"And breakers of the law, the sooth to sayn, And likerous* folk, after that they be dead, *lecherous Shall whirl about the world always in pain, Till many a world be passed, *out of dread;* *without doubt* And then, forgiven all their wicked deed, They shalle come unto that blissful place, To which to come God thee sende grace!"
The day gan failen, and the darke night, That reaveth* beastes from their business, *taketh away Berefte me my book for lack of light, And to my bed I gan me for to dress,* *prepare Full fill'd of thought and busy heaviness; For both I hadde thing which that I n'old,* *would not And eke I had not that thing that I wo'ld.
But, finally, my spirit at the last, Forweary* of my labour all that day, *utterly wearied Took rest, that made me to sleepe fast; And in my sleep I mette,* as that I say, *dreamed How Africane, right in the *self array* *same garb* That Scipio him saw before that tide,* *time Was come, and stood right at my bedde's side.
The weary hunter, sleeping in his bed, To wood again his mind goeth anon; The judge dreameth how his pleas be sped; The carter dreameth how his cartes go'n; The rich of gold, the knight fights with his fone;* *foes The sicke mette he drinketh of the tun; <7> The lover mette he hath his lady won.
I cannot say, if that the cause were, For* I had read of Africane beforn, *because That made me to mette that he stood there; But thus said he; "Thou hast thee so well borne In looking of mine old book all to-torn, Of which Macrobius *raught not a lite,* *recked not a little* That *somedeal of thy labour would I quite."* *I would reward you for some of your labour* Cytherea, thou blissful Lady sweet! That with thy firebrand dauntest *when thee lest,* *when you please* That madest me this sweven* for to mette, *dream Be thou my help in this, for thou may'st best! As wisly* as I saw the north-north-west, <8> *surely When I began my sweven for to write, So give me might to rhyme it and endite.* *write down
This foresaid Africane me hent* anon, *took And forth with him unto a gate brought Right of a park, walled with greene stone; And o'er the gate, with letters large y-wrought, There were verses written, as me thought, On either half, of full great difference, Of which I shall you say the plain sentence.* *meaning
"Through me men go into the blissful place <9> Of hearte's heal and deadly woundes' cure; Through me men go unto the well of grace; Where green and lusty May shall ever dure; This is the