The Canterbury Tales [332]
therefore go your way." "Alas," quoth they, "and well-away! Tell us what may your cause be." "For that it list* me not," quoth she, *pleases No wight shall speak of you, y-wis, Good nor harm, nor that nor this."
And with that word she gan to call Her messenger, that was in hall, And bade that he should faste go'n, Upon pain to be blind anon, For Aeolus, the god of wind; "In Thrace there ye shall him find, And bid him bring his clarioun, That is full diverse of his soun', And it is called Cleare Laud, With which he wont is to heraud* *proclaim Them that me list y-praised be, And also bid him how that he Bring eke his other clarioun, That hight* Slander in ev'ry town, *is called With which he wont is to diffame* *defame, disparage Them that me list, and do them shame." This messenger gan faste go'n, And found where, in a cave of stone, In a country that highte Thrace, This Aeolus, *with harde grace,* *Evil favour attend him!* Helde the windes in distress,* *constraint And gan them under him to press, That they began as bears to roar, He bound and pressed them so sore. This messenger gan fast to cry, "Rise up," quoth he, "and fast thee hie, Until thou at my Lady be, And take thy clarions eke with thee, And speed thee forth." And he anon Took to him one that hight Triton, <70> His clarions to beare tho,* *then And let a certain winde go, That blew so hideously and high, That it lefte not a sky* *cloud <71> In all the welkin* long and broad. *sky This Aeolus nowhere abode* *delayed Till he was come to Fame's feet, And eke the man that Triton hete,* *is called And there he stood as still as stone.
And therewithal there came anon Another huge company Of goode folk, and gan to cry, "Lady, grant us goode fame, And let our workes have that name, Now in honour of gentleness; And all so God your soule bless; For we have well deserved it, Therefore is right we be well quit."* *requited "As thrive I," quoth she, "ye shall fail; Good workes shall you not avail To have of me good fame as now; But, wot ye what, I grante you. That ye shall have a shrewde* fame, *evil, cursed And wicked los,* and worse name, *reputation <72> Though ye good los have well deserv'd; Now go your way, for ye be serv'd. And now, Dan Aeolus," quoth she, "Take forth thy trump anon, let see, That is y-called Slander light, And blow their los, that ev'ry wight Speak of them harm and shrewedness,* *wickedness, malice Instead of good and worthiness; For thou shalt trump all the contrair Of that they have done, well and fair." Alas! thought I, what adventures* *(evil) fortunes Have these sorry creatures, That they, amonges all the press, Should thus be shamed guilteless? But what! it muste needes be. What did this Aeolus, but he Took out his blacke trump of brass, That fouler than the Devil was, And gan this trumpet for to blow, As all the world 't would overthrow. Throughout every regioun Went this foule trumpet's soun', As swift as pellet out of gun When fire is in the powder run. And such a smoke gan out wend,* *go Out of this foule trumpet's end, Black, blue, greenish, swart,* and red, *black <73> As doth when that men melt lead, Lo! all on high from the tewell;* *chimney <74> And thereto* one thing saw I well, *also That the farther that it ran, The greater waxen it began, As doth the river from a well,* *fountain And it stank as the pit of hell. Alas! thus was their shame y-rung, And guilteless, on ev'ry tongue.
Then came the thirde company, And gan up to the dais to hie,*
And with that word she gan to call Her messenger, that was in hall, And bade that he should faste go'n, Upon pain to be blind anon, For Aeolus, the god of wind; "In Thrace there ye shall him find, And bid him bring his clarioun, That is full diverse of his soun', And it is called Cleare Laud, With which he wont is to heraud* *proclaim Them that me list y-praised be, And also bid him how that he Bring eke his other clarioun, That hight* Slander in ev'ry town, *is called With which he wont is to diffame* *defame, disparage Them that me list, and do them shame." This messenger gan faste go'n, And found where, in a cave of stone, In a country that highte Thrace, This Aeolus, *with harde grace,* *Evil favour attend him!* Helde the windes in distress,* *constraint And gan them under him to press, That they began as bears to roar, He bound and pressed them so sore. This messenger gan fast to cry, "Rise up," quoth he, "and fast thee hie, Until thou at my Lady be, And take thy clarions eke with thee, And speed thee forth." And he anon Took to him one that hight Triton, <70> His clarions to beare tho,* *then And let a certain winde go, That blew so hideously and high, That it lefte not a sky* *cloud <71> In all the welkin* long and broad. *sky This Aeolus nowhere abode* *delayed Till he was come to Fame's feet, And eke the man that Triton hete,* *is called And there he stood as still as stone.
And therewithal there came anon Another huge company Of goode folk, and gan to cry, "Lady, grant us goode fame, And let our workes have that name, Now in honour of gentleness; And all so God your soule bless; For we have well deserved it, Therefore is right we be well quit."* *requited "As thrive I," quoth she, "ye shall fail; Good workes shall you not avail To have of me good fame as now; But, wot ye what, I grante you. That ye shall have a shrewde* fame, *evil, cursed And wicked los,* and worse name, *reputation <72> Though ye good los have well deserv'd; Now go your way, for ye be serv'd. And now, Dan Aeolus," quoth she, "Take forth thy trump anon, let see, That is y-called Slander light, And blow their los, that ev'ry wight Speak of them harm and shrewedness,* *wickedness, malice Instead of good and worthiness; For thou shalt trump all the contrair Of that they have done, well and fair." Alas! thought I, what adventures* *(evil) fortunes Have these sorry creatures, That they, amonges all the press, Should thus be shamed guilteless? But what! it muste needes be. What did this Aeolus, but he Took out his blacke trump of brass, That fouler than the Devil was, And gan this trumpet for to blow, As all the world 't would overthrow. Throughout every regioun Went this foule trumpet's soun', As swift as pellet out of gun When fire is in the powder run. And such a smoke gan out wend,* *go Out of this foule trumpet's end, Black, blue, greenish, swart,* and red, *black <73> As doth when that men melt lead, Lo! all on high from the tewell;* *chimney <74> And thereto* one thing saw I well, *also That the farther that it ran, The greater waxen it began, As doth the river from a well,* *fountain And it stank as the pit of hell. Alas! thus was their shame y-rung, And guilteless, on ev'ry tongue.
Then came the thirde company, And gan up to the dais to hie,*