The Canterbury Tales [395]
deed. *any share in* Nor a true lover oughte me to blame, Though that I spoke a false lover some shame. They oughte rather with me for to hold, For that I of Cressida wrote or told, Or of the Rose, *what so mine author meant;* *made a true translation* Algate, God wot, it was mine intent *by all ways To further truth in love, and it cherice,* *cherish And to beware from falseness and from vice, By such example; this was my meaning."
And she answer'd; "Let be thine arguing, For Love will not counterpleaded be <30> In right nor wrong, and learne that of me; Thou hast thy grace, and hold thee right thereto. Now will I say what penance thou shalt do For thy trespass;* and understand it here: *offence Thou shalt, while that thou livest, year by year, The moste partie of thy time spend In making of a glorious Legend Of Goode Women, maidenes and wives, That were true in loving all their lives; And tell of false men that them betray, That all their life do naught but assay How many women they may do a shame; For in your world that is now *held a game.* *considered a sport* And though thou like not a lover be, <31> Speak well of love; this penance give I thee. And to the God of Love I shall so pray, That he shall charge his servants, by any way, To further thee, and well thy labour quite:* *requite Go now thy way, thy penance is but lite. And, when this book ye make, give it the queen On my behalf, at Eltham, or at Sheen."
The God of Love gan smile, and then he said: "Know'st thou," quoth he, "whether this be wife or maid, Or queen, or countess, or of what degree, That hath so little penance given thee, That hath deserved sorely for to smart? But pity runneth soon in gentle* heart; <32> *nobly born That may'st thou see, she kitheth* what she is. *showeth And I answer'd: "Nay, Sir, so have I bliss, No more but that I see well she is good." "That is a true tale, by my hood," Quoth Love; "and that thou knowest well, pardie! If it be so that thou advise* thee. *bethink Hast thou not in a book, li'th* in thy chest, *(that) lies The greate goodness of the queen Alceste, That turned was into a daisy She that for her husbande chose to die, And eke to go to hell rather than he; And Hercules rescued her, pardie! And brought her out of hell again to bliss?" And I answer'd again, and saide; "Yes, Now know I her; and is this good Alceste, The daisy, and mine own hearte's rest? Now feel I well the goodness of this wife, That both after her death, and in her life, Her greate bounty* doubleth her renown. *virtue Well hath she quit* me mine affectioun *recompensed That I have to her flow'r the daisy; No wonder is though Jove her stellify, <33> As telleth Agathon, <34> for her goodness; Her white crowne bears of it witness; For all so many virtues hadde she As smalle flowrons in her crowne be. In remembrance of her, and in honour, Cybele made the daisy, and the flow'r, Y-crowned all with white, as men may see, And Mars gave her a crowne red, pardie! Instead of rubies set among the white."
Therewith this queen wax'd red for shame a lite When she was praised so in her presence. Then saide Love: "A full great negligence Was it to thee, that ilke* time thou made *that same 'Hide Absolon thy tresses,' in ballade, That thou forgot her in thy song to set, Since that thou art so greatly in her debt, And knowest well that calendar* is she *guide, example To any woman that will lover be: For she taught all the craft of true loving, And namely* of wifehood the living, *especially And all the boundes that she ought to keep: Thy little wit was thilke* time asleep. *that But now I charge thee, upon thy life, That in thy Legend thou make* of this wife, *poetise, compose When thou hast other small y-made before; And fare now well,
And she answer'd; "Let be thine arguing, For Love will not counterpleaded be <30> In right nor wrong, and learne that of me; Thou hast thy grace, and hold thee right thereto. Now will I say what penance thou shalt do For thy trespass;* and understand it here: *offence Thou shalt, while that thou livest, year by year, The moste partie of thy time spend In making of a glorious Legend Of Goode Women, maidenes and wives, That were true in loving all their lives; And tell of false men that them betray, That all their life do naught but assay How many women they may do a shame; For in your world that is now *held a game.* *considered a sport* And though thou like not a lover be, <31> Speak well of love; this penance give I thee. And to the God of Love I shall so pray, That he shall charge his servants, by any way, To further thee, and well thy labour quite:* *requite Go now thy way, thy penance is but lite. And, when this book ye make, give it the queen On my behalf, at Eltham, or at Sheen."
The God of Love gan smile, and then he said: "Know'st thou," quoth he, "whether this be wife or maid, Or queen, or countess, or of what degree, That hath so little penance given thee, That hath deserved sorely for to smart? But pity runneth soon in gentle* heart; <32> *nobly born That may'st thou see, she kitheth* what she is. *showeth And I answer'd: "Nay, Sir, so have I bliss, No more but that I see well she is good." "That is a true tale, by my hood," Quoth Love; "and that thou knowest well, pardie! If it be so that thou advise* thee. *bethink Hast thou not in a book, li'th* in thy chest, *(that) lies The greate goodness of the queen Alceste, That turned was into a daisy She that for her husbande chose to die, And eke to go to hell rather than he; And Hercules rescued her, pardie! And brought her out of hell again to bliss?" And I answer'd again, and saide; "Yes, Now know I her; and is this good Alceste, The daisy, and mine own hearte's rest? Now feel I well the goodness of this wife, That both after her death, and in her life, Her greate bounty* doubleth her renown. *virtue Well hath she quit* me mine affectioun *recompensed That I have to her flow'r the daisy; No wonder is though Jove her stellify, <33> As telleth Agathon, <34> for her goodness; Her white crowne bears of it witness; For all so many virtues hadde she As smalle flowrons in her crowne be. In remembrance of her, and in honour, Cybele made the daisy, and the flow'r, Y-crowned all with white, as men may see, And Mars gave her a crowne red, pardie! Instead of rubies set among the white."
Therewith this queen wax'd red for shame a lite When she was praised so in her presence. Then saide Love: "A full great negligence Was it to thee, that ilke* time thou made *that same 'Hide Absolon thy tresses,' in ballade, That thou forgot her in thy song to set, Since that thou art so greatly in her debt, And knowest well that calendar* is she *guide, example To any woman that will lover be: For she taught all the craft of true loving, And namely* of wifehood the living, *especially And all the boundes that she ought to keep: Thy little wit was thilke* time asleep. *that But now I charge thee, upon thy life, That in thy Legend thou make* of this wife, *poetise, compose When thou hast other small y-made before; And fare now well,