The Canterbury Tales [394]
that they be, *reasonable Enhanced and honoured, and most dear, For they be halfe* in this world here, -- *demigods Yet must he do both right to poor and rich, All be that their estate be not y-lich;* *alike And have of poore folk compassion. For lo! the gentle kind of the lion; For when a fly offendeth him, or biteth, He with his tail away the flye smiteth, All easily; for of his gentery* *nobleness Him deigneth not to wreak him on a fly, As doth a cur, or else another beast. *In noble corage ought to be arrest,* *in a noble nature ought And weighen ev'rything by equity, to be self-restraint* And ever have regard to his degree. For, Sir, it is no mastery for a lord To damn* a man, without answer of word; *condemn And for a lord, that is *full foul to use.* *most infamous practice* And it be so he* may him not excuse, *the offender But asketh mercy with a dreadful* heart, *fearing, timid And proffereth him, right in his bare shirt, To be right at your owen judgement, Then ought a god, by short advisement,* *deliberation Consider his own honour, and his trespass; For since no pow'r of death lies in this case, You ought to be the lighter merciable; Lette* your ire, and be somewhat tractable! *restrain This man hath served you of his cunning,* *ability, skill And further'd well your law in his making.* *composing poetry Albeit that he cannot well endite, Yet hath he made lewed* folk delight *ignorant To serve you, in praising of your name. He made the book that hight the House of Fame, And eke the Death of Blanche the Duchess, And the Parliament of Fowles, as I guess, And all the Love of Palamon and Arcite, <25> Of Thebes, though the story is known lite;* *little And many a hymne for your holydays, That highte ballads, roundels, virelays. And, for to speak of other holiness, He hath in prose translated Boece, <26> And made the Life also of Saint Cecile; He made also, gone is a greate while, Origenes upon the Magdalene. <27> Him oughte now to have the lesse pain;* *penalty He hath made many a lay, and many a thing. Now as ye be a god, and eke a king, I your Alcestis, <28> whilom queen of Thrace, I aske you this man, right of your grace, That ye him never hurt in all his life; And he shall sweare to you, and that blife,* *quickly He shall no more aguilten* in this wise, *offend But shall maken, as ye will him devise, Of women true in loving all their life, Whereso ye will, of maiden or of wife, And further you as much as he missaid Or* in the Rose, or elles in Cresseide." *either
The God of Love answered her anon: "Madame," quoth he, "it is so long agone That I you knew, so charitable and true, That never yet, since that the world was new, To me ne found I better none than ye; If that I woulde save my degree, I may nor will not warne* your request; *refuse All lies in you, do with him as you lest. I all forgive withoute longer space;* *delay For he who gives a gift, or doth a grace, Do it betimes, his thank is well the more; <29> And deeme* ye what he shall do therefor. *adjudge Go thanke now my Lady here," quoth he. I rose, and down I set me on my knee, And saide thus; "Madame, the God above Foryielde* you that ye the God of Love *reward Have made me his wrathe to forgive; And grace* so longe for to live, *give me grace That I may knowe soothly what ye be, That have me help'd, and put in this degree! But truely I ween'd, as in this case, Naught t' have aguilt,* nor done to Love trespass;** *offended For why? a true man, withoute dread, **offence Hath not *to parte with* a thieve's
The God of Love answered her anon: "Madame," quoth he, "it is so long agone That I you knew, so charitable and true, That never yet, since that the world was new, To me ne found I better none than ye; If that I woulde save my degree, I may nor will not warne* your request; *refuse All lies in you, do with him as you lest. I all forgive withoute longer space;* *delay For he who gives a gift, or doth a grace, Do it betimes, his thank is well the more; <29> And deeme* ye what he shall do therefor. *adjudge Go thanke now my Lady here," quoth he. I rose, and down I set me on my knee, And saide thus; "Madame, the God above Foryielde* you that ye the God of Love *reward Have made me his wrathe to forgive; And grace* so longe for to live, *give me grace That I may knowe soothly what ye be, That have me help'd, and put in this degree! But truely I ween'd, as in this case, Naught t' have aguilt,* nor done to Love trespass;** *offended For why? a true man, withoute dread, **offence Hath not *to parte with* a thieve's