The Canterbury Tales [59]
the ancients, for the nearest relative of the deceased to do this, with averted face.
89. It was the custom for soldiers to march thrice around the funeral pile of an emperor or general; "on the left hand" is added, in reference to the belief that the left hand was propitious -- the Roman augur turning his face southward, and so placing on his left hand the east, whence good omens came. With the Greeks, however, their augurs facing the north, it was just the contrary. The confusion, frequent in classical writers, is complicated here by the fact that Chaucer's description of the funeral of Arcite is taken from Statius' "Thebaid" -- from a Roman's account of a Greek solemnity.
90. Lyke-wake: watching by the remains of the dead; from Anglo-Saxon, "lice," a corpse; German, "Leichnam."
91. Chaucer here borrows from Boethius, who says: "Hanc rerum seriem ligat, Terras ac pelagus regens, Et coelo imperitans, amor." (Love ties these things together: the earth, and the ruling sea, and the imperial heavens)
THE MILLER'S TALE.
THE PROLOGUE.
When that the Knight had thus his tale told In all the rout was neither young nor old, That he not said it was a noble story, And worthy to be *drawen to memory*; *recorded* And *namely the gentles* every one. *especially the gentlefolk* Our Host then laugh'd and swore, "So may I gon,* *prosper This goes aright; *unbuckled is the mail;* *the budget is opened* Let see now who shall tell another tale: For truely this game is well begun. Now telleth ye, Sir Monk, if that ye conne*, *know Somewhat, to quiten* with the Knighte's tale." *match The Miller that fordrunken was all pale, So that unnethes* upon his horse he sat, *with difficulty He would avalen* neither hood nor hat, *uncover Nor abide* no man for his courtesy, *give way to But in Pilate's voice<1> he gan to cry, And swore by armes, and by blood, and bones, "I can a noble tale for the nones* *occasion, With which I will now quite* the Knighte's tale." *match Our Host saw well how drunk he was of ale, And said; "Robin, abide, my leve* brother, *dear Some better man shall tell us first another: Abide, and let us worke thriftily." By Godde's soul," quoth he, "that will not I, For I will speak, or elles go my way!" Our Host answer'd; "*Tell on a devil way*; *devil take you!* Thou art a fool; thy wit is overcome." "Now hearken," quoth the Miller, "all and some: But first I make a protestatioun. That I am drunk, I know it by my soun': And therefore if that I misspeak or say, *Wite it* the ale of Southwark, I you pray: *blame it on*<2> For I will tell a legend and a life Both of a carpenter and of his wife, How that a clerk hath *set the wrighte's cap*." *fooled the carpenter* The Reeve answer'd and saide, "*Stint thy clap*, *hold your tongue* Let be thy lewed drunken harlotry. It is a sin, and eke a great folly To apeiren* any man, or him defame, *injure And eke to bringe wives in evil name. Thou may'st enough of other thinges sayn." This drunken Miller spake full soon again, And saide, "Leve brother Osewold, Who hath no wife, he is no cuckold. But I say not therefore that thou art one; There be full goode wives many one. Why art thou angry with my tale now? I have a wife, pardie, as well as thou, Yet *n'old I*, for the oxen in my plough, *I would not* Taken upon me more than enough, To deemen* of myself that I am one; *judge I will believe well that I am none. An husband should not be inquisitive Of Godde's privity, nor of his wife. So he may finde Godde's foison* there, *treasure Of the remnant needeth not to enquere."
What should I more say, but that this Millere He would his wordes for no man forbear, But told his churlish* tale in his mannere; *boorish,
89. It was the custom for soldiers to march thrice around the funeral pile of an emperor or general; "on the left hand" is added, in reference to the belief that the left hand was propitious -- the Roman augur turning his face southward, and so placing on his left hand the east, whence good omens came. With the Greeks, however, their augurs facing the north, it was just the contrary. The confusion, frequent in classical writers, is complicated here by the fact that Chaucer's description of the funeral of Arcite is taken from Statius' "Thebaid" -- from a Roman's account of a Greek solemnity.
90. Lyke-wake: watching by the remains of the dead; from Anglo-Saxon, "lice," a corpse; German, "Leichnam."
91. Chaucer here borrows from Boethius, who says: "Hanc rerum seriem ligat, Terras ac pelagus regens, Et coelo imperitans, amor." (Love ties these things together: the earth, and the ruling sea, and the imperial heavens)
THE MILLER'S TALE.
THE PROLOGUE.
When that the Knight had thus his tale told In all the rout was neither young nor old, That he not said it was a noble story, And worthy to be *drawen to memory*; *recorded* And *namely the gentles* every one. *especially the gentlefolk* Our Host then laugh'd and swore, "So may I gon,* *prosper This goes aright; *unbuckled is the mail;* *the budget is opened* Let see now who shall tell another tale: For truely this game is well begun. Now telleth ye, Sir Monk, if that ye conne*, *know Somewhat, to quiten* with the Knighte's tale." *match The Miller that fordrunken was all pale, So that unnethes* upon his horse he sat, *with difficulty He would avalen* neither hood nor hat, *uncover Nor abide* no man for his courtesy, *give way to But in Pilate's voice<1> he gan to cry, And swore by armes, and by blood, and bones, "I can a noble tale for the nones* *occasion, With which I will now quite* the Knighte's tale." *match Our Host saw well how drunk he was of ale, And said; "Robin, abide, my leve* brother, *dear Some better man shall tell us first another: Abide, and let us worke thriftily." By Godde's soul," quoth he, "that will not I, For I will speak, or elles go my way!" Our Host answer'd; "*Tell on a devil way*; *devil take you!* Thou art a fool; thy wit is overcome." "Now hearken," quoth the Miller, "all and some: But first I make a protestatioun. That I am drunk, I know it by my soun': And therefore if that I misspeak or say, *Wite it* the ale of Southwark, I you pray: *blame it on*<2> For I will tell a legend and a life Both of a carpenter and of his wife, How that a clerk hath *set the wrighte's cap*." *fooled the carpenter* The Reeve answer'd and saide, "*Stint thy clap*, *hold your tongue* Let be thy lewed drunken harlotry. It is a sin, and eke a great folly To apeiren* any man, or him defame, *injure And eke to bringe wives in evil name. Thou may'st enough of other thinges sayn." This drunken Miller spake full soon again, And saide, "Leve brother Osewold, Who hath no wife, he is no cuckold. But I say not therefore that thou art one; There be full goode wives many one. Why art thou angry with my tale now? I have a wife, pardie, as well as thou, Yet *n'old I*, for the oxen in my plough, *I would not* Taken upon me more than enough, To deemen* of myself that I am one; *judge I will believe well that I am none. An husband should not be inquisitive Of Godde's privity, nor of his wife. So he may finde Godde's foison* there, *treasure Of the remnant needeth not to enquere."
What should I more say, but that this Millere He would his wordes for no man forbear, But told his churlish* tale in his mannere; *boorish,