The Canterbury Tales

"We alle desyren, if it mighte be, To han housbondes hardy, wyse, and free, And secree, and no nigard, ne no fool, Ne him that is agast of every tool, Ne noon avauntour, by that god above!"

"Certes this dreem, which ye han met to-night, Cometh of the grete superfluitee Of youre rede colera."

"Right as the humour of malencolye Causeth ful many a man, in sleep, to crye, For fere of blake beres, or boles blake, Or elles, blake develes wole hem take."

"O blisful god, that art so just and trewe! Lo, how that thou biwreyest mordre alway! Mordre wol out, that see we day by day. Mordre is so wlatsom and abhominable."

"Macrobeus, that writ the avisioun In Affrike of the worthy Cipioun, Affermeth dremes, and seith that they been Warning of thinges that men after seen."

"Reed eek of Joseph, and ther shul ye see Wher dremes ben somtyme (I sey nat alle) Warning of thinges that shul after falle."

"Who-so wol seken actes of sondry remes, May rede of dremes many a wonder thing."

"For whan I see the beautee of your face, Ye ben so scarlet-reed about your yën, It maketh al my drede for to dyen."

"Womman is mannes joye and al his blis. For whan I fele a-night your softe syde, Al-be-it that I may nat on you ryde, For that our perche is maad so narwe, alas! I am so ful of joye and of solas That I defye bothe sweven and dreem."

"Whan that the month in which the world bigan, That highte March, whan god first maked man."

"‘Madame Pertelote, my worldes blis, Herkneth thise blisful briddes how they singe, And see the fresshe floures how they springe; Ful is myn herte of revel and solas.’ But sodeinly him fil a sorweful cas; For ever the latter ende of joye is wo."

"My tale is of a cok, as ye may here, That took his counseil of his wyf, with sorwe, To walken in the yerd upon that morwe That he had met the dreem, that I yow tolde. Wommennes counseils been ful ofte colde."

"Allas! ye lordes, many a fals flatour Is in your courtes, and many a losengeour, That plesen yow wel more, by my feith, Than he that soothfastnesse unto yow seith. Redeth Ecclesiaste of flaterye; Beth war, ye lordes, of hir trecherye."

"Daun Russel the fox sterte up at ones."

"And on a Friday fil al this meschaunce."

"They yelleden as feendes doon in helle; The dokes cryden as men wolde hem quelle; The gees for fere flowen over the trees; Out of the hyve cam the swarm of bees."

"Certes, he Jakke Straw, and his meynee, Ne made never shoutes half so shrille, Whan that they wolden any Fleming kille, As thilke day was maad upon the fox."

"But ye that holden this tale a folye, As of a fox, or of a cok and hen, Taketh the moralitee, good men. For seint Paul seith, that al that writen is, To our doctryne it is y-write, y-wis. Taketh the fruyt, and lat the chaf be stille."

"‘Lordings,’ quod he, ‘in chirches whan I preche, I peyne me to han an hauteyn speche, And ringe it out as round as gooth a belle, For I can al by rote that I telle.’"

"Than peyne I me to strecche forth the nekke, And est and west upon the peple I bekke."

"I preche of no-thing but for coveityse. Therfor my theme is yet, and ever was— “Radix malorum est cupiditas.”"

"But, though my-self be gilty in that sinne, Yet can I maken other folk to twinne From avaryce, and sore to repente."

"O wombe! O bely! O stinking cod, Fulfild of donge and of corrupcioun!"

"For dronkenesse is verray sepulture Of mannes wit and his discrecioun."

"And thou shalt kisse the reliks everichon, Ye, for a grote! unbokel anon thy purs."

"Gret swering is a thing abhominable, And false swering is yet more reprevable."

"‘What? carl, with sory grace.’"

"Thus walke I, lyk a restelees caityf, And on the ground, which is my modres gate, I knokke with my staf, bothe erly and late, And seye, “leve moder, leet me in!”"

"And lightly as it comth, so wol we spende."

"He wolde sowen som difficultee, Or springen cokkel in our clene corn."

"He can nat stinte of singing by the weye."

"Mordre wol out, certein, it wol nat faille."

"Experience, though noon auctoritee Were in this world, were right y-nough to me To speke of wo that is in mariage."

"Housbondes at chirche-dore I have had fyve; For I so ofte have y-wedded be; And alle were worthy men in hir degree."

"Men may devyne and glosen up and doun. But wel I woot expres, with-oute lye, God bad us for to wexe and multiplye; That gentil text can I wel understonde."

"Blessed be god that I have wedded fyve! Welcome the sixte, whan that ever he shal. For sothe, I wol nat kepe me chast in al; Whan myn housbond is fro the world y-gon, Som Cristen man shal wedde me anon."

"Th'Apostle seith, that I am free To wedde, a goddes half, wher it lyketh me. He seith that to be wedded is no sinne; Bet is to be wedded than to brinne."

"Whan saugh ye ever, in any maner age, That hye God defended mariage By expres word? I pray you, telleth me; Or wher comanded he virginitee?"

"Men may conseille a womman to been oon, But conseilling is no comandement; He putte it in our owene jugement. For hadde god comanded maydenhede, Thanne hadde he dampned wedding with the dede."

"And certes, if ther were no seed y-sowe, Virginitee, wher-of than sholde it growe?"

"Hem lyketh to be clene, body and goost, Of myn estaat I nil nat make no boost. For wel ye knowe, a lord in his houshold, He hath nat every vessel al of gold; Somme been of tree, and doon hir lord servyse. God clepeth folk to him in sondry wyse, And everich hath of god a propre yifte, Som this, som that,—as him lyketh shifte."

"Virginitee is greet perfeccioun, And continence eek with devocioun. But Crist, that of perfeccioun is welle, Bad nat every wight he shold go selle All that he hadde, and give it to the pore, And in swich wyse folwe hime and his fore. He spak to hem that wolde live parfitly; And lordinges, by your leve, that am nat I."

"I wol bistowe the flour of al myn age In the actes and in fruit of mariage."

"So that the clerkes be nat with me wrothe, I sey this, that they maked been for bothe, This is to seye, for office, and for ese Of engendrure, ther we nat god displese."

"The bacoun was nat fet for hem, I trowe, That som men han in Essex at Dunmowe."

"Ye wyse wyves, that can understonde, Thus shul ye speke and bere hem wrong on honde; For half so boldely can ther no man Swere and lyen as a womman can."

"Thow seyst that dropping houses, and eek smoke, And chyding wyves, maken men to flee Out of hir owene hous; a! benedicite! What eyleth swich an old man for to chyde?"

"Thou lykenest wommanes love to helle, To bareyne lond, ther water may not dwelle. Thou lyknest it also to wilde fyr; The more it brenneth, the more it hath desyr To consume every thing that brent wol be. Thou seyst, that right as wormes shende a tree, Right so a wyf destroyeth hir housbonde; This knowe they that been to wyves bonde."

"I wolde no lenger in the bed abyde, If that I felte his arm over my syde, Til he had maad his raunson un-to me; Than wolde I suffre him do his nycetee. And ther-fore every man this tale I telle, Winne who-so may, for al is for to selle."

"With empty hand men may none haukes lure; For winning wolde I al his lust endure, And make me a feyned appetyt; And yet in bacon hadde I never delyt."