The Canterbury Tales [326]
Cupid; and he will hear, says the bird,
"When we be come there as I say, More wondrous thinges, dare I lay,* *bet Of Love's folke more tidings, Both *soothe sawes and leasings;* *true sayings and lies* And more loves new begun, And long y-served loves won, And more loves casually That be betid,* no man knows why, *happened by chance But as a blind man starts a hare; And more jollity and welfare, While that they finde *love of steel,* *love true as steel* As thinketh them, and over all weel; More discords, and more jealousies, More murmurs, and more novelties, And more dissimulations, And feigned reparations; And more beardes, in two hours, Withoute razor or scissours Y-made, <14> than graines be of sands; And eke more holding in hands,* *embracings And also more renovelances* *renewings Of old *forleten acquaintances;* *broken-off acquaintanceships* More love-days,<15> and more accords,* *agreements Than on instruments be chords; And eke of love more exchanges Than ever cornes were in granges."* *barns
The poet can scarcely believe that, though Fame had all the pies [magpies] and all the spies in a kingdom, she should hear so much; but the eagle proceeds to prove that she can.
First shalt thou heare where she dwelleth; And, so as thine own booke telleth, <16> Her palace stands, as I shall say, Right ev'n in middes of the way Betweene heav'n, and earth, and sea, That whatsoe'er in all these three Is spoken, *privy or apert,* *secretly or openly* The air thereto is so overt,* *clear And stands eke in so just* a place, *suitable That ev'ry sound must to it pace, Or whatso comes from any tongue, Be it rowned,* read, or sung, *whispered Or spoken in surety or dread,* *doubt Certain *it must thither need."* *it must needs go thither*
The eagle, in a long discourse, demonstrates that, as all natural things have a natural place towards which they move by natural inclination, and as sound is only broken air, so every sound must come to Fame's House, "though it were piped of a mouse" -- on the same principle by which every part of a mass of water is affected by the casting in of a stone. The poet is all the while borne upward, entertained with various information by the bird; which at last cries out --
"Hold up thy head, for all is well! Saint Julian, lo! bon hostel! <17> See here the House of Fame, lo May'st thou not heare that I do?" "What?" quoth I. "The greate soun'," Quoth he, "that rumbleth up and down In Fame's House, full of tidings, Both of fair speech and of chidings, And of false and sooth compouned;* *compounded, mingled Hearken well; it is not rowned.* *whispered Hearest thou not the greate swough?"* *confused sound "Yes, pardie!" quoth I, "well enough." And what sound is it like?" quoth he "Peter! the beating of the sea," Quoth I, "against the rockes hollow, When tempests do the shippes swallow. And let a man stand, out of doubt, A mile thence, and hear it rout.* *roar Or elles like the last humbling* *dull low distant noise After the clap of a thund'ring, When Jovis hath the air y-beat; But it doth me for feare sweat." "Nay, dread thee not thereof," quoth he; "It is nothing will bite thee, Thou shalt no harme have, truly."
And with that word both he and I As nigh the place arrived were, As men might caste with a spear. I wist not how, but in a street He set me fair upon my feet, And saide: "Walke forth apace, And take *thine adventure or case,* *thy chance of what That thou shalt find in Fame's place." may befall* "Now," quoth I, "while we have space To speak, ere that I go from thee, For
"When we be come there as I say, More wondrous thinges, dare I lay,* *bet Of Love's folke more tidings, Both *soothe sawes and leasings;* *true sayings and lies* And more loves new begun, And long y-served loves won, And more loves casually That be betid,* no man knows why, *happened by chance But as a blind man starts a hare; And more jollity and welfare, While that they finde *love of steel,* *love true as steel* As thinketh them, and over all weel; More discords, and more jealousies, More murmurs, and more novelties, And more dissimulations, And feigned reparations; And more beardes, in two hours, Withoute razor or scissours Y-made, <14> than graines be of sands; And eke more holding in hands,* *embracings And also more renovelances* *renewings Of old *forleten acquaintances;* *broken-off acquaintanceships* More love-days,<15> and more accords,* *agreements Than on instruments be chords; And eke of love more exchanges Than ever cornes were in granges."* *barns
The poet can scarcely believe that, though Fame had all the pies [magpies] and all the spies in a kingdom, she should hear so much; but the eagle proceeds to prove that she can.
First shalt thou heare where she dwelleth; And, so as thine own booke telleth, <16> Her palace stands, as I shall say, Right ev'n in middes of the way Betweene heav'n, and earth, and sea, That whatsoe'er in all these three Is spoken, *privy or apert,* *secretly or openly* The air thereto is so overt,* *clear And stands eke in so just* a place, *suitable That ev'ry sound must to it pace, Or whatso comes from any tongue, Be it rowned,* read, or sung, *whispered Or spoken in surety or dread,* *doubt Certain *it must thither need."* *it must needs go thither*
The eagle, in a long discourse, demonstrates that, as all natural things have a natural place towards which they move by natural inclination, and as sound is only broken air, so every sound must come to Fame's House, "though it were piped of a mouse" -- on the same principle by which every part of a mass of water is affected by the casting in of a stone. The poet is all the while borne upward, entertained with various information by the bird; which at last cries out --
"Hold up thy head, for all is well! Saint Julian, lo! bon hostel! <17> See here the House of Fame, lo May'st thou not heare that I do?" "What?" quoth I. "The greate soun'," Quoth he, "that rumbleth up and down In Fame's House, full of tidings, Both of fair speech and of chidings, And of false and sooth compouned;* *compounded, mingled Hearken well; it is not rowned.* *whispered Hearest thou not the greate swough?"* *confused sound "Yes, pardie!" quoth I, "well enough." And what sound is it like?" quoth he "Peter! the beating of the sea," Quoth I, "against the rockes hollow, When tempests do the shippes swallow. And let a man stand, out of doubt, A mile thence, and hear it rout.* *roar Or elles like the last humbling* *dull low distant noise After the clap of a thund'ring, When Jovis hath the air y-beat; But it doth me for feare sweat." "Nay, dread thee not thereof," quoth he; "It is nothing will bite thee, Thou shalt no harme have, truly."
And with that word both he and I As nigh the place arrived were, As men might caste with a spear. I wist not how, but in a street He set me fair upon my feet, And saide: "Walke forth apace, And take *thine adventure or case,* *thy chance of what That thou shalt find in Fame's place." may befall* "Now," quoth I, "while we have space To speak, ere that I go from thee, For