Name: St. Barnabas High SchoolEnglish: Date:

The Franklin’s Tale (from the Canterbury Tales) by Geoffrey Chaucer

The Franklin’s Prologuelines 1-20: The Franklin apologizes for his vulgar language

The prologe of the Frankeleyns tale. Thise olde gentil Britouns in hir dayesOf diverse aventures maden layes,Rymeyed in hir firste Briton tonge;Whiche layes with hir instrumentz they songe,

5 Or elles redden hem, for hir plesaunce.And oon of hem have I in remembraunce,Whiche I shal seyn, with good-wyl, as I kan.

These ancient gentle Bretons, in their days,Of divers high adventures made great laysAnd rhymed them in their primal Breton tongue,The which lays to their instruments they sung,

5 Or else recited them where joy might be;And one of them have I in memory,Which I shall gladly tell you, as I can.

But sires, by cause I am a burel man,At my bigynnyng first I yow biseche,

10 Have me excused of my rude speche.I lerned nevere rethorik, certeyn;Thyng that I speke, it moot be bare and pleyn.I sleep nevere on the Mount of Parnaso,Ne lerned Marcus Tullius Scithero.

15 Colours ne knowe I none, withouten drede,But swiche colours as growen in the mede,Or elles swiche, as men dye or peynte.Colours of rethoryk been me to queynte,My spirit feeleth noght of swich mateere;

20 But if yow list, my tale shul ye heere.

But, sirs, because I am an ignorant man,At my beginning must I first beseech

10 You will excuse me for my vulgar speech;I never studied rhetoric, that’s certain;That which I say, it must be bare and plain.I never slept on Mount Parnassus, no,Nor studied Marcus Tullius Cicero.

15 Colours I know not, there’s no doubt indeed,Except colours such as grow within the mead,Or such as men achieve with dye or paint.Colours of rhetoric I find but quaint;My spirit doesn’t feel the beauty there.

20 But if you wish, my story you shall hear.

The Franklin’s Talelines 21-52: About a knight, his wife and their marriage

Heere bigynneth the Frankeleyns tale. In Armorik, that called is Britayne,Ther was a knyght that loved and dide his payneTo serve a lady in his beste wise;And many a labour, many a greet emprise,

25 He for his lady wroghte, er she were wonne.For she was oon the faireste under sonne,And eek therto comen of so heigh kynredeThat wel unnethes dorste this knyght for dredeTelle hir his wo, his peyne, and his distresse.

30 But atte laste, she for his worthynesse,And namely for his meke obeysaunce,Hath swiche a pitee caught of his penaunce,That pryvely she fil of his accordTo take hym for hir housbonde and hir lord,

35 Of swich lordshipe as men han over hir wyves-And for to lede the moore in blisse hir lyves,Of his free wyl he swoor hir as a knyght,That nevere in al his lyf he, day ne nyght,Ne sholde upon hym take no maistrie

40 Agayn hir wyl, ne kithe hir jalousie,

In old Armorica, now Brittany,There was a knight that loved and strove, did heTo serve a lady in the highest wise;And many a labour, many a great emprise

25 He wrought for her, or ever she was won.For she was of the fairest under sun,And therewithal come of so high kindredThat scarcely could this noble knight, for dread,Tell her his woe, his pain, and his distress.

30 But at the last she, for his worthiness,And specially for his meek obedience,Had so much pity that, in consequence,She secretly was come to his accordTo take him for her husband and her lord,

35 Of such lordship as men have over wives;And that they might be happier in their lives,Of his free will he swore to her, as knight,That never in his life, by day or night,Would he assume a right of mastery

40 Against her will, nor show her jealousy,

But hir obeye and folwe hir wyl in alAs any lovere to his lady shal,Save that the name of soveraynetee,That wolde he have, for shame of his degree.

But would obey and do her will in allAs any lover of his lady shall;Except the name and show of sovereignty,Those would he have, lest he shame his degree

45 She thanked hym, and with ful greet humblesseShe seyde, “Sire, sith of youre gentillesseYe profre me to have so large a reyne,Ne wolde nevere God bitwixe us tweyne,As in my gilt, were outher werre or stryf.

50 Sir, I wol be youre humble trewe wyf,Have heer my trouthe til that myn herte breste.”Thus been they bothe in quiete and in reste.

45 She thanked him, and with a great humblenessShe said: “Since, sir, of your own noblenessYou proffer me to have so loose a reinWould God there never come between us twain,For any guilt of mine, a war or strife.

50 Sir, I will be your humble, faithful wife,Take this as truth till heart break in my breast.”Thus were they both in quiet and in rest.

lines 53-94: About love and marriage, freedom and bondage For o thyng, sires, saufly dar I seye,That freendes everych oother moot obeye,

55 If they wol longe holden compaignye.Love wol nat been constreyned by maistrye;Whan maistrie comth, the God of Love anonBeteth hise wynges, and farewel, he is gon!Love is a thyng as any spirit free.

60 Wommen, of kynde desiren libertee,And nat to been constreyned as a thral;And so doon men, if I sooth seyen shal.Looke who that is moost pacient in love,He is at his avantage al above.

65 Pacience is an heigh vertu, certeyn,For it venquysseth, as thise clerkes seyn,Thynges that rigour sholde nevere atteyne.For every word men may nat chide or pleyne,Lerneth to suffre, or elles, so moot I goon,

70 Ye shul it lerne, wherso ye wole or noon.For in this world, certein, ther no wight isThat he ne dooth or seith som tyme amys.Ire, siknesse, or constellaciounWyn, wo, or chaungynge of complexioun

75 Causeth ful ofte to doon amys or speken.On every wrong a man may nat be wreken;After the tyme moste be temperaunceTo every wight that kan on governaunce.And therfore hath this wise worthy knyght,

80 To lyve in ese, suffrance hir bihight,And she to hym ful wisly gan to swereThat nevere sholde ther be defaute in here.

For one thing, sirs, I safely dare to say,That friends each one the other must obey

55 If they’d be friends and long keep company.Love will not be constrained by mastery;When mastery ‘comes, the god of love anonBeats his fair wings, and farewell! He is gone!Love is a thing as any spirit free;

60 Women by nature love their liberty,And not to be constrained like any thrall,And so do men, if say the truth I shall.Observe who is most patient in his love,He is advantaged others all above.

65 Patience is virtue high, and that’s certain;For it does vanquish, as these clerks make plain,Things that oppression never could attain.One must not chide for trifles nor complain.Learn to endure, or else, so may I go,

70 You’ll have to learn it, whether you will or no.For in this world, it’s certain, no one isWho never does or says sometimes amiss.Sickness, or woe, or what the stars have sent,Anger, or wine, or change of temperament

75 Causes one oft to do amiss or speak.For every wrong one may not vengeance wreak;Conditions must determine temperanceIn all who understand good governance.And therefore did this wise and worthy knight,

80 To live in quiet, patience to her plight,And unto him full truly did she swearThat never should he find great fault in her.

Heere may men seen an humble wys accord!Thus hath she take hir servant and hir lord,

85 Servant in love, and lord in mariage;Thanne was he bothe in lordship and servage-Servage? Nay, but in lordshipe above,Sith he hath bothe his lady and his love-His lady, certes, and his wyf also,

90 The which that lawe of love acordeth to.

Here may men see an humble wise accord;Thus did she take her servant and her lord,

85 Servant in love and lord in their marriage;So was he both in lordship and bondage;In bondage? Nay, but in lordship above,Since he had both his lady and his love;His lady truly, and his wife also,

90 To which the law of love accords, we know.And when he was in this prosperity,

And whan he was in this prosperitee,Hoom with his wyf he gooth to his contree,Nat fer fro Pedmark, ther his dwellyng was,Where as he lyveth in blisse and in solas.

Home with his wife he went to his country,Not far from Penmarch, where his dwelling was.And there he lived in bliss and all solace.

lines 95-105: The knight leaves his wife and goes on a campaign95 Who koude telle, but he hadde wedded be,

The joye, the ese, and the prosperiteeThat is bitwixe an housbonde and his wyf?A yeer and moore lasted this blisful lyf,Til that the knyght of which I speke of thus,

100 That of Kayrrud was cleped Arveragus,Shoop hym to goon, and dwelle a yeer or tweyne,In Engelond, that cleped was eek Briteyne,To seke in armes worshipe and honour-For al his lust he sette in swich labour-

105 And dwelled there two yeer, the book seith thus.

95 Who could relate, except those that wedded be,The joy, the ease, and the prosperityThat are between a husband and a wife?A year and more endured this blissful life,Until the knight, of whom I’ve spoken thus,

100 Who at Kayrrud was called Arviragus,Arranged to go and dwell a year or twainIn England, which was then known as Britain,To seek in arms renown and great honour;For his desire was fixed in such labour;

105 And there he lived two years, the book says thus.

lines 106-138: Arviragus’ wife Dorigen mourns after his departure Now wol I stynten of this Arveragus,And speken I wole of Dorigene his wyf,That loveth hir housbonde as hir hertes lyf.For his absence wepeth she and siketh,

110 As doon thise noble wyves whan hem liketh.She moorneth, waketh, wayleth, fasteth, pleyneth,Desir of his presence hir so destreyneth,That al this wyde world she sette at noght,Hir freendes whiche that knewe hir hevy thoght,

115 Conforten hir in al that ever they may.They prechen hir, they telle hir nyght and dayThat causelees she sleeth hirself, allas!And every confort possible in this casThey doon to hir, with all hir bisynesse,

120 Al for to make hir leve hir hevynesse. By proces, as ye knowen everichoon,Men may so longe graven in a stoon,Til som figure therinne emprented be.So longe han they conforted hir, til she

125 Receyved hath by hope and by resounThe emprentyng of hir consolacioun,Thurgh which hir grete sorwe gan aswage;She may nat alwey duren in swich rage.

Now will I hold from this Arviragus,And I will speak of Dorigen his wife,Who loved her husband as her heart’s own life.For all his absence wept she and she sighed,

110 As noble wives do at a lone fireside.She mourned, watched, wailed, she fasted and complained;Desire for him so bound her and constrained,That all this wide world did she set at naught.Her friends, who knew her grief and heavy thought,

115 Comforted her as they might do or say;They preached to her, they told her night and dayThat for no cause she killed herself, alas!And every comfort possible in this passThey gave to her, in all their busyness,

120 To make her thus put by her heaviness. With passing time, as you know, every one,Men may so long with tools engrave a stoneThat thereon will some figure printed be.And so long did they comfort her that she

125 Received at last, by hope and reason grown,Imprinted consolations as her own,Whereby her sorrow did somewhat assuage;She could not always live in such a rage.

And eek Arveragus, in al this care,130 Hath sent hir lettres hoom of his welfare,

And that he wol com hastily agayn,Or elles hadde this sorwe hir herte slayn. Hir freendes sawe hir sorwe gan to slake,And preyde hir on knees, for Goddes sake,

135 To com and romen hir in compaignye,Awey to dryve hir derke fantasye.And finally she graunted that requeste,

And, then, Arviragus, through all her care,130 Had sent her letters home, of his welfare.

And that he would come speedily again;Otherwise had this sorrow her heart slain. Her friends saw that her grief began to slake,And prayed her on their knees, for dear God’s sake,

135 To come and wander in their company

For wel she saugh that it was for the beste. And drive away her gloomy fantasy.And finally she granted that request;For well she saw that it was for the best.

lines 139-192: Dorigen’s friends provide games and comfort Now stood hir castel faste by the see;

140 And often with hir freendes walketh sheHire to disporte, upon the bank an heigh,Where as she many a ship and barge seighSeillynge hir cours, where as hem liste go.But thanne was that a parcel of hir wo,

145 For to hirself ful ofte “Allas,” seith she,“Is ther no ship of so many as I seWol bryngen hoom my lord? Thanne were myn herteAl warisshed of hisse bittre peynes smerte.” Another tyme ther wolde she sitte and thynke

150 And caste hir eyen dounward fro the brynke;But whan she saugh the reisly rokkes blake,For verray feere, so wolde hir herte quakeThat on hire feet she myghte hir noght sustene.Thanne wolde she sitte adoun upon the grene,

155 And pitously into the see biholde,And seyn right thus, with sorweful sikes colde:

Now stood her castle very near the sea,140 And often with her good friends wandered she

For pleasure on the cliffs that reared so high,Whence she saw many a ship and barge go by,Sailing their courses where they wished to go;But that was part and parcel of her woe.

145 For to herself full oft, “Alas!” said she,“Is there no ship, of many that I see,Will bring me home my lord? Then were my heartRecovered of its bitter pains that smart.” At other times there would she sit and think,

150 And cast her two eyes downward from the brink.But when she saw the grisly rocks all black,For very fear her heart would start abackAnd quake so that her feet would not sustainHer weight. Then on the grass she’d sit again

155 And piteously upon the sea she’d stare,And say, with dull sighs on the empty air:

”Eterne God, that thurgh thy purveiaunceLedest the world by certein governaunce,In ydel, as men seyn, ye no thyng make.

160 But, lord, thise grisly feendly rokkes blake,That semen rather a foul confusiounOf werk, than any fair creaciounOf swich a parfit wys God and a stable,Why han ye wroght this werk unresonable?

165 For by this werk, south, north, ne west ne eestTher nys yfostred man, ne bryd, ne beest.It dooth no good, to my wit, but anoyeth,Se ye nat, lord, how mankynde it destroyeth?An hundred thousand bodyes of mankynde

170 Han rokkes slayn, al be they nat in mynde;Which mankynde is so fair part of thy werkThat thou it madest lyk to thyn owene merk.Thanne semed it ye hadde a greet chierteeToward mankynde; but how thanne may it bee

175 That ye swiche meenes make it to destroyen,Whiche meenes do no good, but evere anoyen?I woot wel clerkes wol seyn, as hem leste,By argumentz, that al is for the beste,Though I ne kan the causes nat yknowe,

180 But thilke God that made wynd to bloweAs kepe my lord; this my conclusioun.To clerkes lete I al this disputisoun-But wolde God, that alle thise rokkes blake,Were sonken into helle for his sake!

185 Thise rokkes sleen myn herte for the feere!”Thus wolde she seyn, with many a pitous teere.

”Eternal God, who by your providenceLeadest the world with a true governance,Idly, as men say, do you nothing make;

160 But, Lord, these grisly, fiendish rocks, so black,That seem but rather foul confusion thrownAwry than any fair world of your own,Aye of a perfect wise God and stable,Why have you wrought this insane work, pray tell?

165 For by this work, north, south, and west and east,There is none nurtured, man, nor bird, nor beast;It does no good, to my mind, but annoys.See’st you not, Lord, how mankind it destroys?A hundred thousand bodies of mankind

170 Have died on rocks, whose names are not in mind,And man’s a creature made by you most fair,After your image, as you did declare.Then seemed it that you had’st great charityToward mankind; but how then may it be

175 That you had wrought such means man to destroy,Which means do never good, but ever annoy?I know well, clerics gladly do attest,By arguments, that all is for the best,Though I can never the real causes know.

180 But O you God who made’st the wind to blow,Keep you my lord! This is my argument;

To clerks I leave disputing on what’s meant.But O would God that all these rocks so blackWere sunken down to Hell for my lord’s sake!

185 These rocks, they slay my very heart with fear.”Thus would she say, with many a piteous tear.

Hir freendes sawe that it was no disportTo romen by the see, but disconfort,And shopen for to pleyen somwher elles;

190 They leden hir by ryveres and by welles,And eek in othere places delitables;They dauncen, and they pleyen at ches and tables.

Her friends saw that to her it was no sportTo wander by the sea, but discomfort;And so arranged to revel somewhere else.

190 They led her along rivers and to wells,And such delightful places; and told fables,They danced, and they played at chess and tables.

lines 193-216: A feast in the garden So on a day, right in the morwe tyde,Unto a gardyn that was ther bisyde,

195 In which that they hadde maad hir ordinaunceOf vitaille and of oother purveiaunce,They goon and pleye hem al the longe day.And this was in the sixte morwe of May,Which May hadde peynted with his softe shoures

200 This gardyn ful of leves and of floures,And craft of mannes hand so curiouslyArrayed hadde this gardyn trewely,That nevere was ther gardyn of swich prys,But if it were the verray Paradys.

205 The odour of floures and the fresshe sighteWolde han maked any herte lighteThat evere was born, but if to greet siknesseOr to greet sorwe helde it in distresse;So ful it was of beautee with plesaunce.

210 At after-dyner gonne they to daunceAnd synge also, save Dorigen allone,Which made alwey hir compleint and hir mooneFor she ne saugh hym on the daunce goThat was hir housbonde, and hir love also.

215 But nathelees she moste a tyme abyde,And with good hope lete hir sorwe slyde.

So on a day, all in the morningtide,Unto a garden which was there beside,

195 Wherein they’d given command that there should beFood and whatever else was necessary,They went for pleasure all the livelong day.And this was on the morning sixth of May,And May had painted with his soft warm showers

200 This garden full of foliage and of flowers;And work of man’s hand had so curiouslyArrayed this lovely garden, truthfully,That never was another of such price,Unless it were the very Paradise.

205 The scent of flowers and the fair fresh sightWould have made any heart dance for delightThat ever was born, unless too great sicknessOr too great sorrow held it in distress;So full it was of beauty and pleasance.

210 After their dinner all began to dance,And sing, also, except Dorigen alone,Who made alway her same complaint and moan.For him she saw not through the dancing go,Who was her husband and her love also.

215 Nevertheless, she must a time abide,And with good hope held, let her sorrow slide.

lines 217-258: Aurelius the squire’s hidden love for Dorigen Upon this daunce, amonges othere men,Daunced a squier biforn DorigenThat fressher was, and jolyer of array,

220 As to my doom, than is the monthe of May.He syngeth, daunceth, passynge any manThat is or was, sith that the world bigan.Therwith he was, if men sholde hym discryve,Oon of the beste farynge man of lyve;

225 Yong, strong, right vertuous, and riche, and wys,And wel biloved, and holden in greet prys.And shortly, if the sothe I tellen shal,Unwityng of this Dorigen at al,This lusty squier, servant to Venus,

Amid these mazes, with the other men,There danced a squire before this Dorigen,That was more blithe, and prettier of array,

220 In my opinion, than the month of May.He sang and danced better than any manThat is, or was, since first the world began.Therewith he was, description to contrive,One of best conditioned men alive;

225 Young, strong, right virtuous, and rich, and wise,And well beloved, and one to idealize.And briefly, if I tell the truth withal,Unknown to Dorigen - nay, least of all -This pleasant squire, servant to Queen Venus,

230 Which that ycleped was Aurelius,Hadde loved hir best of any creatureTwo yeer and moore, as was his aventure;But nevere dorste he tellen hir his grevaunce,Withouten coppe he drank al his penaunce.

235 He was despeyred, no thyng dorste he seyeSave in his songes somwhat wolde he wreyeHis wo, as in a general compleynyng.He seyde he lovede, and was biloved no thyng,Of swich matere made he manye layes,

240 Songes, compleintes, roundels, virelayes,How that he dorste nat his sorwe telle,But langwissheth, as a furye dooth in helle,And dye he moste, he seyde, as dide EkkoFor Narcisus, that dorste nat telle hir wo,

245 In oother manere than ye heere me seye,Ne dorste he nat to hir his wo biwreye,Save that paraventure som tyme at daunces,Ther yonge folk kepen hir observaunces,It may wel be he looked on hir face,

250 In swich a wise as man that asketh grace;But nothyng wiste she of his entente.Nathelees it happed, er they thennes wente,By cause that he was hir neighebour,And was a man of worshipe and honour,

255 And hadde yknowen hym of tyme yoore,They fille in speche, and forthe moore and mooreUnto this purpos drough Aurelius.And whan he saugh his tyme, he seyde thus:

230 The name of whom was this, Aurelius,Had loved her best of anyone aliveTwo years and more (since she did first arrive),But never dared he tell her of his state;Without a cup he drank his draught of fate.

235 He had despaired, for nothing dared he say,Except that in songs he would somewhat betrayHis woe, as of a general complaint;He loved, but none loved him, though he went faint.Of such a subject made he many lays,

240 Songs and complaints, rondels and virelays,How that he dared not his deep sorrow tell,But languished, as a fury does in Hell;And die he must, he said, as did EchoFor her Narcissus, daring not tell her woe.

245 In other manner than you hear me sayDared he not unto her his woe betray;Except that, perchance, there would be times at dances,Where young folk honoured all that makes romances,It may well be he looked upon her face

250 In such wise as a man who sued for grace;But nothing knew she of his love’s intent.Nevertheless it chanced, before thence they went,Because it happened he was her neighbour,And was a man of worship and honour,

255 And she had known him in the time of yore,They fell to talking; and so, more and more,Unto his purpose drew Aurelius,And when he saw his time addressed her thus:

lines 259-270: Aurelius reveals his love for Dorigen ”Madame,” quod he, “by God that this world made,

260 So that I wiste it myghte your herte glade,I wolde that day that youre ArveragusWente over the see, that I, Aurelius,Hadde went ther nevere I sholde have come agayn.For wel I woot my servyce is in vayn,

265 My gerdoun is but brestyng of myn herte.Madame, reweth upon my peynes smerte,For with a word ye may me sleen or save.Heere at your feet, God wolde that I were grave,I ne have as now no leyser moore to seye,

270 Have mercy, sweete, or ye wol do me deye.”

”Madam,” said he, “by God who this world made,

260 So that I knew it might your sad heart aid,I would, that day when your ArviragusWent overseas, that I, Aurelius,Had gone whence never I should come again;For well I know my service is in vain.

265 My reward is the breaking of my heart;Madam, have pity on my pains that smart;For with a word you may slay me or save,Here at your feet would God I found my grave!Time to say more, at present naught have I;

270 Have mercy, sweet, or you will make me die!”

lines 271-280: Dorigen rejects Aurelius’ love She gan to looke upon Aurelius:“Is this youre wyl!” quod she, “and sey ye thus?Nevere erst,” quod she, “ne wiste I what ye mente.But now, Aurelie, I knowe youre entente.

So then she looked upon Aurelius:“Is this your will?” asked she, “And say you thus?Never before have I known what you meant.But since, Aurelius, I know your intent,

275 By thilke God, that yaf me soule and lyf,Ne shal I nevere been untrewe wyf,In word ne werk, as fer as I have wit.I wol been his to whom that I am knyt.Taak this for fynal answere as of me.”

280 But after that, in pley thus seyde she,

275 By that same God Who gave me soul and life,Never shall I become an untrue wifeIn word or deed, so far as I have wit:I will remain his own to whom I’m knit;Take this for final answer as from me.”

280 But after that she said thus, sportively:lines 281-297: To receive her love, Dorigen demands the impossible from Aurelius

”Aurelie,” quod she, “by heighe God above,Yet wolde I graunte yow to been youre love,Syn I yow se so pitously complayne.Looke, what day that endelong Britayne

285 Ye remoeve alle the rokkes, stoon by stoon,That they ne lette shipe ne boot to goon, -I seye, whan ye han maad the coost so cleneOf rokkes that ther nys no stoon ysene,Thanne wol I love yow best of any man,

290 Have heer my trouthe in al that evere I kan.” ”Is ther noon oother grace in yow?” quod he. ”No, by that lord,” quod she, “that maked me;For wel I woot that it shal nevere bityde;Lat swiche folies out of your herte slyde.

295 What deyntee sholde a man han in his lyfFor to go love another mannes wyf,That hath hir body whan so that hym liketh?”

”Aurelius,” said she, “by God above,Yet would I well consent to be your love,Since I hear you complain so piteously,On that day when, from coasts of Brittany,

285 You’ve taken all the black rocks, stone by stone,So that they hinder ship nor boat - I own,I say, when you have made the coast so cleanOf rocks that there is no stone to be seen,Then will I love you best of any man;

290 Take here my promise - all that ever I can.” ”Is there no other grace in you?” asked he. ”No, by that Lord,” said she, “Who has made me!For well I know that it shall ne’er betide.Let suchlike follies out of your heart slide.

295 What pleasure can a man have in his lifeWho would go love another man’s own wife,That has her body when he wishes it?”

lines 298-322: Aurelius goes and the feast continues Aurelius ful ofte soore siketh,Wo was Aurelie, whan that he this herde,

300 And with a sorweful herte he thus answered. ”Madame,” quod he, “this were an inpossible;Thanne moot I dye of sodeyn deth horrible.”And with that word he turned hym anon.Tho coome hir othere freendes many oon,

305 And in the aleyes romeden up and doun,And nothyng wiste of this conclusioun,But sodeynly bigonne revel newe,Til that the brighte sonne loste his hewe,For th’orisonte hath reft the sonne his lyght -

310 This is as muche to seye as it was nyght -And hoom they goon in joye and in solas,Save oonly wrecche Aurelius, allas!He to his hous is goon with sorweful herte;He seeth he may nat fro his deeth asterte;

315 Hym semed that he felte his herte colde;Up to the hevene hise handes he gan holde,And on hise knowes bare he sette hym doun,And in his ravyng seyde his orisoun.For verray wo out of his wit he breyde;

320 He nyste what he spak, but thus he seyde:With pitous herte his pleynt hath he bigonneUnto the goddes, and first unto the sonne

Deep sighs Aurelius did then emit;Woe was Aurelius when this he heard,

300 And with a sorrowful heart he thus answered: ”Madam,” said he, “this were impossible!Then must I die a sudden death and fell.”And with that word he turned away anon.Then came her other friends, and many a one,

305 And in the alleys wandered up and down,And nothing knew of this decision shown,But suddenly began to dance anewUntil the bright sun lost his golden hue;For the horizon had cut off his light;

310 This is as much as saying, it was night.And home they went in joy and with solace,Except the wretch Aurelius, alas!He to his house went with a woeful heart;He saw he could not from his near death part.

315 It seemed to him he felt his heart grow cold;Up toward Heaven his two hands did he hold,And on his bare knees did he kneel him downAnd in his raving said his orison.For very woe out of his wits he fled.

320 He knew not what he spoke, but thus he said;With mournful heart his plaint had he begunUnto the gods, and first unto the sun.

lines 323-373: Aurelius pities himself and asks the gods for help He seyde, “Appollo, god and governour He said: “Apollo, governor and god

Of every plaunte, herbe, tree, and flour325 That yevest after thy declinacioun

To ech of hem his tyme and his sesoun,As thyn herberwe chaungeth lowe or heighe,Lord Phebus, cast thy mericiable eigheOn wrecche Aurelie, which that am but lorn.

330 Lo, lord, my lady hath my deeth yswornWithoute gilt, but thy benignyteeUpon my dedly herte have som pitee.For wel I woot, lord Phebus, if yow lest,Ye may me helpen, save my lady, best.

335 Now voucheth sauf that I may yow devyseHow that I may been holpen and in what wyse.

Of every plant, herb, tree, and flower in sod,325 That givest, according to thy declination,

To each of them its time of foliation,All as thy habitation’s low or high,Lord Phoebus, cast thy merciful bright eyeOn wretched Aurelius, who is lost and lorn.

330 Lo, Lord! My lady has my swift death sworn,Without my guilt, save thy benignityUpon my dying heart have some pity!For well I know, Lord Phoebus, if you lest,You can thus aid me, save my lady, best.

335 Now vouchsafe that I may for you deviseA plan to help me, telling in what wise.

”Your blisful suster, Lucina the sheene,That of the see is chief goddesse and queene,(Though Neptunus have deitee in the see,

340 Yet emperisse aboven hym is she),Ye knowen wel, lord, that right as hir desirIs to be quyked and lightned of youre fir,For which she folweth yow ful bisily,Right so the see desireth naturelly

345 To folwen hir, as she that is goddesseBothe in the see and ryveres moore and lesse.Wherfore, lord Phebus, this is my requeste -Do this miracle, or do myn herte breste, -That now next at this opposicioun

350 Which in the signe shal be of the Leoun,As preieth hir, so greet a flood to bryngeThat fyve fadme at the leeste it overspryngeThe hyeste rokke in Armorik Briteyne,And lat this flood endure yeres tweyne.

355 Thanne, certes, to my lady may I seye‘Holdeth youre heste, the rokkes been aweye.’

”Your blessed sister, Lucina, serene,That of the sea is goddess chief and queen(Though Neptune is the deity in the sea,

340 Yet empress set above him there is she).You know well, Lord, that just as her desireIs to be quickened and lighted by your fire,For which she follows you right busily,Just so the sea desires, and naturally,

345 To follow her, she being high goddessBoth of the sea and rivers, great and less.Wherefore, Lord Phoebus, this request I make -Without this miracle, my heart will break -That at the time of your next opposition,

350 Which will be in the Lion, make petitionTo her that she so great a flood will bringThat full five fathoms shall it over-springThe highest rock in Armoric Brittany;And let this flood endure two years for me;

355 Then truly to my lady may I say:‘Now keep your word, the rocks are gone away.’

Lord Phebus, dooth this miracle for me,Preye hir she go no faster cours than ye.I seye, preyeth your suster that she go

360 No faster cours than ye thise yeres two.Thanne shal she been evene atte fulle alway;And spryng flood laste bothe nyght and day;And but she vouche sauf in swich manereTo graunte me my sovereyn lady deere,

365 Prey hir to synken every rok adounInto hir owene dirke regiounUnder the ground ther Pluto dwelleth inne,Or nevere mo shal I my lady wynne.Thy temple in Delphos wol I barefoot seke,

370 Lord Phebus; se the teeris on my cheke,And of my peyne have som compassioun!”And with that word in swowne he fil adoun,And longe tyme he lay forth in a traunce.

”Lord Phoebus, do this miracle for me;Pray her she run no faster course, being free-I say, Lord, pray your sister that she go

360 No faster course than you these next years two.Then shall she be even at the full alway,And spring-flood shall endure both night and day.And save she vouchsafe, Lord, in such mannerTo grant to me my sovereign lady dear,

365 Pray her to sink, then, every rock far downInto that region dark and cold, her own,Under the earth, the place Pluto dwells in,Or nevermore shall I my lady win.Thy temple in Delphi will I, barefoot, seek;

370 Lord Phoebus, see the tears upon my cheek,And on my pain be some compassion shown.”And with that word in swoon he tumbled down,And for a long time lay there in a trance.

lines 374-392: Arviragus returns home His brother, which that knew of his penaunce,

His brother, who knew all his suppliance,375 Found him, and took him, and to bed him

375 Up caughte hym, and to bedde he hath hym broght.Dispeyred in this torment and this thoghtLete I this woful creature lye;Chese he for me wheither he wol lyve or dye. Arveragus, with heele and greet honour,

380 As he that was of chivalrie the flour,Is comen hoom, and othere worthy men.O blisful artow now, thou Dorigen!That hast thy lusty housbonde in thyne armes,The fresshe knyght, the worthy man or armes,

385 That loveth thee, as his owene hertes lyf.No thyng list hym to been ymaginatyfIf any wight hadde spoke, whil he was oute,To hire of love; he hadde of it no doute,He noght entendeth to no swich mateere,

390 But daunceth, justeth, maketh hir good cheere,And thus in joye and blisse I lete hem dwelle,And of the sike Aurelius I wol telle.

brought.Despairing in the torment of his thought,Let I this woeful fellow-creature lie,To choose, for all of me, to live or die. Arviragus, with health, in honour’s hour,

380 As he that was of chivalry the flower,Came home again, with other gentlemen.O happy are you now, my Dorigen,Who have your pleasant husband in your arms,The vigorous knight, the worthy man-at-arms,

385 That loves you as he loves his own heart’s life.Nothing he chose to question of his wifeIf any man had said, while he was out,Some words of love; of her he had no doubt.He tended not that way, it would appear,

390 But danced and jousted, made for her good cheer;And thus in joy and bliss I let them dwellAnd of love-sick Aurelius will I tell.

lines 393-456: Aurelius’ brother knows a cure In langour and in torment furyesTwo yeer and moore lay wrecche Aurelyus,

395 Er any foot he myghte on erthe gon;Ne confort in this tyme hadde he noon,Save of his brother, which that was a clerk.He knew of al this wo and al this werk;For to noon oother creature, certeyn,

400 Of this matere he dorste no word seyn.Under his brest he baar it moore secreeThan evere dide Pamphilus for Galathee.His brest was hool withoute for to sene,But in his herte ay was the arwe kene.

405 And wel ye knowe that of a sursanureIn surgerye is perilous the cure,But men myghte touche the arwe, or come therby.His brother weep and wayled pryvely,Til atte laste hym fil in remembraunce

410 That whiles he was at Orliens in Fraunce,As yonge clerkes, that been lykerousTo reden artes that been curious,Seken in every halke and every herneParticular sciences for to lerne, -

415 He hym remembred, that upon a dayAt Orliens in studie a book he sayOf magyk natureel, which his felawe,That was that tyme a bacheler of lawe -Al were he ther to lerne another craft,

420 Hadde prively upon his desk ylaft;Which book spak muchel of the operaciouns,Touchynge the eighte and twenty mansiounsThat longen to the moone, and swich folyeAs in oure dayes is nat worth a flye, -

425 For hooly chirches feith in oure bileve

In weakness and in torment furiousTwo years and more lay wretched Aurelius

395 Before foot on earth he went - aye, even one;For comfort in this long time had he none,Except from his brother, who was a good clerk;He knew of all this woe and all this work.For to no other human, ‘tis certain,

400 Dared he his cause of illness to explain.In breast he kept more secret his ideaThan did Pamphilius for Galatea.His breast was whole, with no wound to be seen,But in his heart there was the arrow keen.

405 And well you know that of a sursanureIn surgery is difficult the cure,Unless they find the dart or take it out.His brother wept, and long he sought aboutTill at the last he called to remembrance

410 That while he was at Orleans in France -For many young clerks are all ravenousTo read of arts that are most curious,And into every nook and cranny turnParticular strange sciences to learn-

415 He thus recalled that once upon a day,At Orleans, while studying there, I say,A book of natural magic there he sawIn a friend’s room, a bachelor of lawThough he was there to learn another craft,

420 Which book he’d privately on his desk left;And which book said much of the operationsTouching the eight and twenty variationsThat designate the moon, and such follyAs is, in our days, valued not a fly;

425 For Holy Church provides us with a creed

Ne suffreth noon illusioun us to greve.And whan this book was in his remembraunce,Anon for joye his herte gan to daunce,And to hymself he seyde pryvely,

430 “My brother shal be warisshed hastily;For I am siker that ther be sciencesBy whiche men make diverse apparencesSwiche as thise subtile tregetoures pleye;For ofte at feestes have I wel herd seye

435 That tregetoures withinne an halle largeHave maad come in a water and a barge,And in the halle rowen up and doun.Somtyme hath semed come a grym leoun;And somtyme floures sprynge as in a mede,

440 Somtyme a vyne, and grapes white and rede,Somtyme a castel al of lym and stoon;And whan hem lyked, voyded it anoon,Thus semed it to every mannes sighte.

That suffers no illusion to mislead.And when this book came to his remembrance,At once, for joy, his heart began to dance,And to himself he said in privacy:

430 “My brother shall be healed, and speedily;For I am sure that there are sciencesWhereby men make divers appearances,Such as these prestidigitators play.For oft at feasts, have I well heard men say

435 That jugglers, in a hall both bright and large,Have made come in there, water and a barge,And in the hall the barge rowed up and down.Sometimes there seemed to come a grim lion;And sometimes flowers sprang as in a mead;

440 Or vines with grapes both red and white indeed;Sometimes a castle built of lime and stone;And when they wished it disappeared anon.Thus seemed these things to be in each man’s sight.

Now thanne conclude I thus, that if I myghte445 At Orliens som oold felawe yfynde

That hadde this moones mansions in mynde,Or oother magyk natureel above,He sholde wel make my brother han his love;For with an apparence a clerk may make

450 To mannes sighte, that alle the rokkes blakeOf Britaigne weren yvoyded everichon,And shippes by the brynke comen and gon,And in swich forme enduren a wowke or two.Thanne were my brother warisshed of his wo;

455 Thanne moste she nedes holden hire biheste,Or elles he shal shame hire atte leste.”

”Now, then, conclude I thus, that if I might445 At Orleans some old school-fellow find,

Who has these mansions of the moon in mind,Or other natural magic from above,He could well make my brother have his love.For with a mere appearance clerks may make

450 It seem in man’s sight that all rocks that breakThe seas of Brittany were removed, soThat right above them ships might come and go,And in such wise endure a week or two;Then were my brother cured of all his woe.

455 For she must keep the word she gave at feast.Or he’ll have right to shame her, at the least.”

lines 457-480: The two brothers leave for Orleans and meet a clerk What sholde I make a lenger tale of this?Unto his brotheres bed he comen is,And swich confort he yaf hym for to gon

460 To Orliens that he up stirte anon,And on his wey forthward thanne is he fareIn hope for to been lissed of his care. Whan they were come almoost to that citee,But if it were a furlong or three,

465 A yong clerk romynge by hymself they mette,Which that in Latyn thriftily hem grette,And after that he seyde a wonder thyng:“I knowe,” quod he, “the cause of youre comyng.”And er they ferther any foote wente,

470 He tolde hem al that was in hire entente.

Why should I longer speak of this event?He to the bedside of his brother went,And urged him eagerly to get him gone

460 To Orleans; he started up anonAnd forward on his way at once did fareIn hope to be relieved of all his care. When they were come almost to that city,Perhaps two furlongs short of it, or three,

465 A young clerk walking by himself they met,Who, in good Latin, heartily did greet,And after that he said a wondrous thing.“I know,” said he, “the cause of your coming.”And before a farther foot the brothers went,

470 He told them all the soul of their intent. This Briton clerk hym asked of felawesThe whiche that he had knowe in olde dawes,And he answerde hym that they dede were,For which he weep ful ofte many a teere.

475 Doun of his hors Aurelius lighte anon,And with this magicien forth is he gon

This Breton clerk asked after school-fellowsWhom he had known through former suns and snows;And he replied to this that dead they were,Whereat he wept, for sorrow, many a tear.

475 Down from his horse Aurelius leaped anon,

Hoom to his hous, and maden hem wel at ese.Hem lakked no vitaille that myghte hem plese.So wel arrayed hous as ther was oon

480 Aurelius in his lyf saugh nevere noon.

And onward with this wizard he was goneHome to his house, where he was put at ease.To him there lacked no victuals that might please;So well appointed house as was that one

480 Aurelius in life before saw none.lines 481-500: The clerk shows his magical power

He shewed hym, er he wente to sopeer,Forestes, parkes ful of wilde deer;Ther saugh he hertes with hir hornes hye,The gretteste that evere were seyn with ye.

485 He saugh of hem an hondred slayn with houndes,And somme with arwes blede of bittre woundes.He saugh, whan voyded were thise wilde deer,Thise fauconers upon a fair ryver,That with hir haukes han the heron slayn.

He showed him, before he went to supper here,Forests and parks full of the dim wild deer;There saw he harts of ten with their horns high,The greatest ever seen by human eye.

485 He saw of them a hundred slain by hounds,And some with arrows bled, with bitter wounds.He saw, when vanished all were these wild deer,Some falconers by river flowing clear,Who with their hawks had many herons slain.

490 Tho saugh he knyghtes justyng in a playn;And after this he dide hym swich plesaunceThat he hym shewed his lady on a daunce,On which hymself he daunced, as hym thoughte.And whan this maister that his magyk wroughte

495 Saugh it was tyme, he clapte his handes two,And farewel! al oure revel was ago.And yet remoeved they nevere out of the hous,Whil they saugh al this sighte marveillous,But in his studie, ther as his bookes be,

500 They seten stille, and no wight but they thre.

490 And then he saw knights jousting on a plain;And after this he did him such pleasanceThat he showed him his lady in a danceWherein he also joined, or so he thought.And when this master who this magic wrought

495 Saw it was time, he clapped his two hands, lo!Farewell to all! the revels out did go.And yet they’d never moved out of the houseWhile they saw all these sights so marvelous,But in his study, where his books would be,

500 They had sat still, and no one but they three.

lines 501-510: The clerk invites the two brothers for dinner To hym this maister called his squier,And seyde hym thus: “Is redy oure soper?Almoost an houre it is, I undertake,Sith I yow bad oure soper for to make,

505 Whan that thise worthy men wenten with meInto my studie, ther as my bookes be.” ”Sire,” quod this squier, “whan it liketh yow,It is al redy, though ye wol right now.”“Go we thanne soupe,” quod he, “as for the beste.

510 Thise amorous folk somtyme moote han hir reste.”

Then unto him this master called his squire,And asked him thus: “Is supper ready, sir?Almost an hour it is, I’ll undertake,Since I bade you our evening meal to make,

505 When these two gentlemen came in with meInto my study, wherein my books be.” ”Sir,” said this squire then, “when it pleases youIt is all ready, though you will right now.”“Then let us eat,” said he, “for that is best;

510 These amorous folk must sometime have some rest.”

lines 511-530: An agreement on the vanishment of the black costal rocks At after-soper fille they in treteeWhat somme sholde this maistres gerdon be,To remoeven alle the rokkes of Britayne,And eek from Gerounde to the mouth of Sayne

After the supper they discussed, they three,What sum should this said master’s reward beFor moving all rocks Breton coasts containFrom the Gironde unto the mouth of Seine.

515 He made it straunge, and swoor, so God hym save,Lasse than a thousand pound he wolde nat have,Ne gladly for that somme he wolde nat goon. Aurelius, with blisful herte anoon,

515 He played for time, and swore, so God him save,Less than a thousand he would not have,Nor eagerly for that would take it on. Aurelius, with blissful heart, anon

Answerde thus: “Fy on a thousand pound!520 This wyde world, which that men seye is round,

I wolde it yeve, if I were lord of it.This bargayn is ful dryve, for we been knyt.Ye shal be payed trewely, by my throuthe!But looketh now for no necligence or slouthe

525 Ye tarie us heere, no lenger than to-morwe.” ”Nay,” quod this clerk, “have heer my feith to borwe.’ To bedde is goon Aurelius whan hym leste,And wel ny al that nyght he hadde his reste;What for his labour and his hope of blisse,

530 His woful herte of penaunce hadde a lisse.

Answered him thus: “Fig for a thousand pound!

520 This great wide world, the which, men say, is round,I’d give it all, if I were lord of it.The bargain is concluded and we’re knit.You shall be truly paid, sir, by my troth!But look you, for no negligence or sloth,

525 Delay no longer than tomorrow morn.” ”Nay,” said this clerk! “upon my faith I’m sworn.” To bed went this Aurelius and undressed,And well-nigh all that night he had his rest;What of his labour and his hope of bliss

530 The pain had left that woeful heart of his.lines 531-552: The two brothers and the wizard go back to Brittany

Upon the morwe, whan that it was day,To Britaigne tooke they the righte way,Aurelius and this magicien bisyde,And been descended ther they wolde abyde.

535 And this was, as thise bookes me remembre,The colde, frosty sesoun of Decembre. Phebus wax old, and hewed lyk latoun,That in this hoote declynaciounShoon as the burned gold, and stremes brighte;

540 But now in Capricorn adoun he lighte,Where as he shoon ful pale, I dar wel seyn.The bittre frostes, with the sleet and reyn,Destroyed hath the grene in every yerd;Janus sit by the fyr, with double berd,

545 And drynketh of his bugle horn the wyn.Biforn hym stant brawen of the tusked swyn,And “Nowel” crieth every lusty man.

Upon the morrow, when it was full day,To Brittany took they the nearest way,Aurelius, with this wizard at his side,And thus they came to where they would abide;

535 And that was, as the books say, I remember,The cold and frosty season of December. Phoebus was old and coloured like pale brass,That in hot declination coloured wasAnd shone like burnished gold with streamers bright;

540 But now in Capricorn did he alight,Wherein he palely shone, I dare explain.The bitter frosts, with all the sleet and rain,Had killed the green of every garden-yard.Janus sat by the fire, with double beard,

545 And drained from out his bugle horn the wine.Before him stood the brawn of tusked swine,And “Noel!” cried then every lusty man.

Aurelius, in al that evere he kan,Dooth to his master chiere and reverence,

550 And preyeth hym to doon his diligenceTo bryngen hym out of his peynes smerte,Or with a swerd that he wolde slitte his herte.

Aurelius, in all that he could plan,Did to this master cheerful reverence,

550 And prayed of him he’d use all diligenceTo bring him from his pains that so did smart,Or else with sword that he would slit his heart.

lines 553-588: The wizard performs his conjuring: the black costal rocks are vanished This subtil clerk swich routhe had of this man,That nyght and day he spedde hym that he kan

555 To wayten a tyme of his conclusioun,This is to seye, to maken illusiounBy swich an apparence or jogelrye -I ne kan no termes of astrologye -That she and every wight sholde wene and seye

560 That of Britaigne the rokkes were aweye,Or ellis they were sonken under grounde.So atte laste he hath his tyme yfoundeTo maken hise japes and his wrecchednesseOf swich a supersticious cursednesse.

565 Hise tables Tolletanes forth he brought,

This subtle clerk such ruth had for this man,That night and day he sped about his plan,

555 To wait the proper time for his conclusion;That is to say, the time to make illusion,By such devices of his jugglery -I understand not this astrology -That she and everyone should think and say

560 That all the Breton rocks were gone away,Or else that they were sunken underground.So at the last the proper time he foundTo do his tricks and all his wretchednessOf such a superstitious wickedness.

565 For his Toletan Tables forth he brought,All well corrected, and he lacked in naught,

Ful wel corrected, ne ther lakked nought,Neither his collect ne hise expans yeeris,Ne his rootes, ne hise othere geeris,As been his centris and hise argumentz,

570 And hise proporcioneles convenientzFor hise equacions in every thyng.And by his eighte speere in his wirkyngHe knew ful wel how fer Alnath was shoveFro the heed of thilke fixe Aries above

575 That in the ninthe speere considered is.Ful subtilly he kalkuled al this.

The years collected nor the separate years,Nor his known roots, nor any other gears,As, say, his centres and his argument,

570 And his proportionals convenientIn estimating truly his equations. The eighth sphere showed him in his calculationsHow far removed was Alnath, passing by,From head of that fixed Aries on high,

575 That in the ninth great sphere considered is;Right cleverly he calculated this.

Whan he hadde founde his firste mansioun,He knew the remenaunt by proporcioun,And knew the arisyng of his moone weel,

580 And in whos face and terme, and everydeel;And knew ful weel the moones mansiounAcordaunt to his operacioun,And knew also hise othere observauncesFor swiche illusiouns and swiche meschaunces

585 As hethen folk useden in thilke dayes;-For which no lenger maked he delayes,But thurgh his magik, for a wyke or tweye,It semed that alle the rokkes were aweye.

When he the moon’s first mansion thus had found,The rest proportionally he could expound;And knew the moon’s arising-time right well,

580 And in what face and term, and all could tell;This gave him then the mansion of the moon-He worked it out accordingly right soon,And did the other necessary ritesTo cause illusions and such evil sights

585 As heathen peoples practised in those days.Therefore no longer suffered he delays,But all the rocks by magic and his loreAppeared to vanish for a week or more.

lines 589-630: Aurelius goes to Dorigen and tells her he has done the impossible Aurelius, which that yet despeired is,

590 Wher he shal han his love, or fare amys,Awaiteth nyght and day on this myracle.And whan he knew that ther was noon obstacle,That voyded were thise rokkes everychon,Doun to hise maistres feet he fil anon,

595 And seyde, “I woful wrecche, Aurelius,Thanke yow, lord, and lady myn, Venus,That me han holpen fro my cares colde.”And to the temple his wey forth hath he holdeWhere as he knew he sholde his lady see,

600 And whan he saugh his tyme, anon right heeWith dredful herte and with ful humble cheereSalewed hath his sovereyn lady deere. ”My righte lady,” quod this woful man,“Whom I moost drede and love as I best kan,

605 And lothest were of al this world displese,Nere it that I for yow have swich diseseThat I moste dyen heere at youre foot anon,Noght wolde I telle how me is wo bigon;But, certes, outher moste I dye or pleyne,

610 Ye sle me giltelees for verray peyne.But of my deeth thogh that ye have no routhe,Avyseth yow er that ye breke youre trouthe.Repenteth yow for thilke God above,Er ye me sleen by cause that I yow love.

615 For madame, wel ye woot what ye han hight -Nat that I chalange any thyng of rightOf yow, my sovereyn lady, but youre grace -

Aurelius, who yet was torn by this,590 Whether he’d gain his love or fare amiss,

Awaited night and day this miracle;And when he knew there was no obstacle,That vanished were these black rocks, every one,Down at the master’s feet he fell anon

595 And said: “I, woeful wretch, Aurelius,Thank you, my lord, and Lady mine Venus,That have so saved me from my dreadful care.”And to the temple straightway did he fare,Whereat he knew he should his lady see.

600 And when he saw his opportunity,With fluttering heart and with an humble cheerHe greeted thus his sovereign lady dear. ”My own dear lady,” said this woeful man,“Whom I most fear and love best, as I can,

605 And whom, of all this world, I’d not displease,Were it not that for you I’ve such uneaseThat I must die here at your feet anon,I would not tell how I am woebegone;But I must either die or else complain;

610 You slay me, for no crime, with utter pain.But on my death, although you have no ruth,Take heed now, before you break your promised trothRepent you, for die sake of God above,Before you kill me, because it’s you I love.

615 For well you know your promise apposite;

But in a gardyn yond, at swich a placeYe woot right wel what ye bihighten me,

620 And in myn hand youre trouthe plighten yeTo love me best - God woot ye seyde so,Al be that I unworthy be therto.Madame, I speke it for the honour of yow,Moore than to save myn hertes lyf right now, -

625 I have do so as ye comanded me,And if ye vouche sauf, ye may go see.Dooth as yow list, have youre biheste in mynde,For, quyk or deed, right there ye shal me fynde.In yow lith al, to do me lyve of deye,

630 But wel I woot the rokkes been aweye!”

Not that I challenge aught, of my own right,In you, my sovereign lady, save your grace;But in a garden, in a certain place,You know right well what you did promise me;

620 And in my hand you plighted troth,” said he,“To love me best, God knows you promised so,Howe’er I may unworthy be thereto.Madam, I say it for your honour’s vowMore than to save my heart’s dear life right now;

625 I have done all that you commanded me;And if you will, you may well go and see.Do as you please, but hold your word in mind,For quick or dead, as you do, me you’ll find;In you lies all, to make me live or die,

630 But well I know the rocks are vanished, aye!”lines 631-658: Dorigen pities herself that she has fallen for the trap

He taketh his leve, and she astonied stood,In al hir face nas a drope of blood.She wende nevere han come in swich a trappe.“Allas,” quod she, “that evere this sholde happe.

635 For wende I nevere, by possibilitee,That swich a monstre or merveille myghte be.It is agayns the proces of nature.”And hoom she goth a sorweful creature,For verray feere unnethe may she go.

640 She wepeth, wailleth, al a day or two,And swowneth that it routhe was to see;But why it was, to no wight tolde shee,For out of towne was goon Arveragus.But to hirself she spak, and seyde thus,

645 With face pale and with ful sorweful cheere,In hire compleynt, as ye shal after heere. ”Allas!” quod she, “on thee, Fortune, I pleyne,That unwar wrapped hast me in thy cheyne;For which t’escape woot I no socour

650 Save oonly deeth or elles dishonour;Oon of thise two bihoveth me to chese.But nathelees, yet have I levere to leseMy lif, thanne of my body have a shame,Or knowe myselven fals or lese my name,

655 And with my deth I may be quyt, ywis;Hath ther nat many a noble wyf er thisAnd many a mayde yslayn hirself, allas,Rather than with hir body doon trespas?

He took his leave, and she astounded stood,In all her face there was no drop of blood;She never thought to have come in such a trap.“Alas!” said she, “that ever this should hap!

635 For thought I never, by possibility,That such prodigious marvel e’er might be!It is against the way of all nature.”And home she went, a sorrowful creature.For utter terror hardly could she go,

640 She wept, she wailed throughout a day or so,And swooned so much ‘twas pitiful, to see;But why this was to not a soul told she;For out of town was gone Arviragus.But to her own heart spoke she, and said thus,

645 With her face pale and with a heavy cheer,All her complaint, as you’ll hereafter hear: ”Of thee,” she said, “O Fortune, I complain,That, unaware, I’m bound within thy chain;From which to go, I know of no succour

650 Except only death, or else my dishonour;One of these two I am compelled to choose.Nevertheless, I would far rather loseMy life than of my body come to shame,Or know myself untrue, or lose my name;

655 By death I know it well, I may be freed;Has there not many a noble wife, indeed,And many a maiden slain herself - alas! -Rather than with her body do trespass?

lines 659-670: An example about Phido’s daughters who have committed suicide Yis, certes, lo, thise stories beren witnesse,

660 Whan thritty tirauntz, ful of cursednesse,Hadde slayn Phidoun in Atthenes, at feste,They comanded hise doghtres for tareste,And bryngen hem biforn hem in despit,Al naked, to fulfille hir foul delit,

665 And in hir fadres blood they made hem daunceUpon the pavement, God yeve hem

Yes, truly, lo, these stories bear witness;660 When thirty tyrants, full of wickedness,

Had Phido slain in Athens, at a feast,They gave command his daughters to arrest,And had them brought before them, for despite,All naked, to fulfill their foul delight,

665 And in their father’s blood they made them dance

meschaunce!For which thise woful maydens ful of drede,Rather than they wolde lese hir maydenhede,They prively been stirt into a welle

670 And dreynte hemselven, as the bookes telle.

Upon the pavement - God give them mischance!For which these woeful maidens, full of dread,Rather than they should lose their maidenhead,Unseen they all leaped down into a well

670 And drowned themselves therein, as old books tell.

[lines 671-686: Other examples about women who prefer suicide rather than being dishonoured][lines 687-710: Roman examples about women who prefer suicide rather than being dishonoured][lines 711-748: Greek examples about women who prefer suicide rather than being dishonoured]

lines 749-761: Dorigen tells her husband Arviragus about her dilemma Thus pleyned Dorigene a day or tweye,

750 Purposynge evere that she wolde deye.But nathelees, upon the thridde nyghtHoom cam Arveragus, this worthy knyght,And asked hir why that she weep so soore.And she gan wepen ever lenger the moore.

755 “Allas!” quod she, “that evere I was born.Thus have I seyd,” quod she, “thus have I sworn” -And toold hym al as ye han herd bifore,It nedeth nat reherce it yow namoore.This housbonde with glad chiere in freendly wyse

760 Answerde and seyde, as I shal yow devyse,“Is ther oght elles, Dorigen, but this?”

Thus Dorigen went on a day or so,750 Purposing ever that to death she’d go.

But notwithstanding, upon the third nightHome came Arviragus, this worthy knight,And asked her why it was she wept so sore.And thereat she began to weep the more.

755 “Alas!” cried she, “that ever I was born!Thus have I said,” quoth she, “thus have I sworn” -And told him all, as you have heard before;It needs not to re-tell it to you more.This husband, with glad cheer, in friendly wise,

760 Answered and said as I shall you apprise:“Is there naught else, my Dorigen, than this?”

lines 762-778: Truth is the highest thing that man may keep ”Nay, nay,” quod she, “God helpe me so, as wys,This is to muche, and it were Goddes wille.”“Ye, wyf,” quod he, “lat slepen that is stille.

765 It may be wel paraventure yet to-day.Ye shul youre trouthe holden, by my fay.For God so wisly have mercy upon me,I hadde wel levere ystiked for to beFor verray love which that I to yow have,

770 But if ye sholde your trouthe kepe and save.Trouthe is the hyeste thyng that man may kepe.”But with that word he brast anon to wepeAnd seyde, “I yow forbede, up peyne of deeth,That nevere whil thee lasteth lyf ne breeth,

775 To no wight telle thou of this aventure -As I may best, I wol my wo endure, -Ne make no contenance of hevynesse,That folk of yow may demen harm or gesse.”

”Nay, nay,” said she, “God help me, as it isThis is too much, though it were God’s own will.”“Yea, wife,” said he, “let sleep what’s lying still;

765 It may be well with us, perchance, today.But you your word shall hold to, by my fay!As God may truly mercy have on me,Wounded to death right now I’d rather be,For sake of this great love of you I have,

770 Than you should not your true word keep and save.Truth is the highest thing that man may keep.”But with that word began he then to weep,And said: “I you forbid, on pain of death,That ever, while to you last life and breath,

775 To anyone you tell this adventure.As I best may, I will my woe endure,Nor show a countenance of heaviness,That folk no harm may think of you, or guess.”

lines 779-790: Dorigen is sent away to fulfil her promiseand the Franklin warns his audience not to draw a conclusion yet

And forth he cleped a squier and a mayde;780 “Gooth forth anon with Dorigen,” he sayde,

“And bryngeth hir to swich a place anon,”They take hir leve, and on hir wey they gon,But they ne weste why she thider wente,He nolde no wight tellen his entente.

And then he called a squire and a maid:780 “Go forth anon with Dorigen,” he said,

“And bring her to a certain place anon.”They took their leave and on their way were gone.But nothing knew of why she thither wentNor would he to a soul tell his intent.

785 Paraventure, an heep of yow, ywis,Wol holden hym a lewed man in this,

785 Perhaps a lot of you will certainlyHold him a wicked man that wilfully

That he wol putte his wyf in jupartie.Herkneth the tale er ye upon hire crie;She may have bettre fortune than yow semeth,

790 And whan that ye han herd the tale, demeth.

Put his wife’s honour thus in jeopardy;Listen to the tale, before you upon her cry.She may have better luck than you suppose;

790 And when you’ve heard all, let your judgment close.

lines 791-805: Dorigen meets Aurelius and says she has come to fulfil her promise This squier, which that highte Aurelius,On Dorigen that was so amorus,Of aventure happed hir to meeteAmydde the toun, right in the quykkest strete,

795 As she was bown to goon the wey forth-rightToward the gardyn, ther as she had hight.And he was to the gardyn-ward also,For wel he spyed whan she wolde goOut of hir hous to any maner place.

800 But thus they mette, of aventure or graceAnd he saleweth hir with glad entente,And asked of hir whiderward she wente.And she answerde, half as she were mad,“Unto the gardyn as myn housbonde bad,

805 My trouthe for to holde, allas! allas!”

This squire I’ve told you of, Aurelius,Of Dorigen he being so amorous,Chanced, as it seems, his lady fair to meetIn middle town, right in the busiest street,

795 As she was going forth, as you have heard,Toward the garden where she’d pledged her word.And he was going gardenward also;For he was always watching when she’d goOut of her house to any kind of place.

800 But thus they met, by chance perhaps or grace;And he saluted her with good intent,And asked her, now, whither it was she went.And she replied, as if she were half mad:“Unto the garden, as my husband bade,

805 My promise there to keep, alas, alast”lines 806-836: Aurelius discharges Dorigen

Aurelius gan wondren on this cas,And in his herte hadde greet compassiounOf hir and of hir lamentacioun,And of Arveragus, the worthy knyght,

810 That bad hire holden al that she had hight,So looth hym was his wyf sholde breke hir trouthe;And in his herte he caughte of this greet routhe,Considerynge the beste on every sydeThat fro his lust yet were hym levere abyde

815 Than doon so heigh a cherlyssh wrecchednesseAgayns franchise and alle gentillesse;For which in fewe wordes seyde he thus:

Aurelius then pondered on this case,And in his heart he had compassion greatOn her and her lamenting and her state,And on Arviragus, the noble knight,

810 Who’d bidden her keep promise, as she might,Being so loath his wife should break with truth;And in his heart he gained, from this, great ruth,Considering the best on every side,That from possession rather he’d abide

815 Than do so great a churlish grievousnessAgainst free hearts and all high nobleness;For which, and in few words, he told her thus:

”Madame, seyeth to your lord Arveragus,That sith I se his grete gentillesse

820 To yow, and eek I se wel youre distresse,That him were levere han shame - and that were routhe -Than ye to me sholde breke thus youre trouthe,I have wel levere evere to suffre woThan I departe the love bitwix yow two.

825 I yow relesse, madame, into youre hondQuyt every surement and every bond,That ye han maad to me as heer biforn,Sith thilke tyme which that ye were born.My trouthe I plighte, I shal yow never repreve

830 Of no biheste, and heere I take my leve,As of the treweste and the beste wyfThat evere yet I knew in al my lyf.”But every wyf be war of hir biheeste,On Dorigen remembreth atte leeste!

”Madam, say to your lord ArviragusThat since I see his noble gentleness

820 To you, and since I see well your distress,That he’d have rather shame - and that were ruth -Than you to me should break your word of truth,I would myself far rather suffer woeThan break apart the love between you two.

825 So I release, madam, into your hand,And do return, discharged, each surety andEach bond that you have given and have sworn,Even from the very time that you were born.My word I pledge, I’ll never seek to retrieve

830 A single promise, and I take my leaveAs of the truest and of the best wifeThat ever yet I’ve known in all my life.Let every wife of promises take care,Remember Dorigen, and so beware!

835 Thus kan a squier doon a gentil dedeAs wel as kan a knyght, with outen drede.

835 Thus can a squire perform a gentle deedAs well as can a knight, of that take heed.”

lines 837-848: A happy end for Dorigen and Arviragus She thonketh hym upon hir knees al bare,And hoom unto hir housbonde is she fare,And tolde hym al, as ye han herd me sayd;

840 And be ye siker, he was so weel apaydThat it were inpossible me to wryte.What sholde I lenger of this cas endyte?

Upon her bare knees did she thank him there,And home unto her husband did she fare,And told him all, as you have heard it said;

840 And be assured, he was so pleased and gladThat ‘twere impossible of it to write.What should I further of this case indite?

Arveragus and Dorigen his wyfIn sovereyn blisse leden forth hir lyf,

845 Nevere eft ne was ther angre hem bitwene.He cherisseth hire as though she were a queene,And she was to hym trewe for everemoore.-Of thise two folk ye gete of me namoore.

Arviragus and Dorigen his wifeIn sovereign happiness led forth their life.

845 Never did any anger come between;He cherished her as if she were a queen;And she to him was true for evermore.Of these two folk you get from me no more.

lines 849-862: Aurelius goes to the wizard to fulfil his promise Aurelius, that his cost hath al forlorn

850 Curseth the tyme that evere he was born.“Allas,” quod he, “allas, that I bihighteOf pured gold a thousand pound of wighteUnto this philosophre! How shal I do?I se namoore but that I am fordo;

855 Myn heritage moot I nedes selleAnd been a beggere; heere may I nat dwelle,And shamen al my kynrede in this place,But I of hym may gete bettre grace.But nathelees I wole of hym assaye

860 At certeyn dayes yeer by yeer to paye,And thanke hym of his grete curteisye;My trouthe wol I kepe, I wol nat lye.”

Aurelius, whose wealth was now forlorn,850 He cursed the time that ever he was born;

“Alas!” cried he, “Alas! that I did stateI’d pay fine gold a thousand pounds by weightTo this philosopher! What shall I do?I see no better than I’m ruined too.

855 All of my heritage I needs must sellAnd be a beggar; here I cannot dwellAnd shame all of my kindred in this place,Unless I gain of him some better grace.And so I’ll go to him and try, today,

860 On certain dates, from year to year, to pay,And thank him for his princely courtesy;For I will keep my word, and I’ll not lie.”

lines 863-886: Aurelius tells the wizard about his financial constraint and repeats what happened With herte soor he gooth unto his cofre,And broghte gold unto this philosophre

865 The value of fyve hundred pound, I gesse,And hym bisecheth of his gentillesseTo graunte hym dayes of the remenaunte,And seyde, “Maister, I dar wel make avaunt,I failled nevere of my trouthe as yit.

870 For sikerly my dette shal be quytTowareds yow, how evere that I fare,To goon a begged in my kirtle bare!But wolde ye vouche sauf upon seureteeTwo yeer or thre, for to respiten me,

875 Thanne were I wel, for elles moot I selleMyn heritage, ther is namoore to telle.” This philosophre sobrely answerde,And seyde thus, whan he thise wordes herde,“Have I nat holden covenant unto thee?”

880 ”Yes, certes, wel and trewely,” quod he. ”Hastow nat had thy lady, as thee liketh?” ”No, no,” quod he, and sorwefully he siketh. ”What was the cause, tel me if thou kan?” Aurelius his tale anon bigan,

With sore heart he went then to his coffer,And took gold unto this philosopher,

865 The value of five hundred pounds, I guess,And so besought him, of his nobleness,To grant him dates for payment of the rest,And said: “Dear master, I may well protestI’ve never failed to keep my word, as yet;

870 For certainly I’ll pay my entire debtTo you, however after I may fare,Even to begging, save for kirtle, bare.But if you’d grant, on good security,Two years or three of respite unto me,

875 Then all were well; otherwise must I sellMy heritage; there is no more to tell.” Then this philosopher soberly answeredAnd spoke in this wise, when these words he’d heard:“Have I not fairly earned my promised fee?”

880 ”Yes, truly, you have done so, sir,” said he. ”Have you not bad the lady at your will?” ”No, no,” said he, and sighed, and then was still.

885 And tolde hym al, as ye han herd bifoore,It nedeth nat to yow reherce it moore.

”What was the reason? Tell me if you can.” Aurelius his tale anon began,

885 And told him all, as you have heard before;It needs not I repeat it to you more.

lines 887-916: The wizard discharges Aurelius and the Franklin asks his audience who was most generous He seide, “Arveragus of gentillesseHadde levere dye in sorwe and in distresseThan that his wyf were of hir trouthe fals;”

890 The sorwe of Dorigen he tolde hym als,How looth hir was to been a wikked wyf,And that she levere had lost that day hir lyf,And that hir trouthe she swoor, thurgh innocence,She nevere erst hadde herd speke of apparence.

895 “That made me han of hir so greet pitee;And right as frely as he sente hir me,As frely sente I hir to hym ageyn.This al and som, ther is namoore to seyn.” This philosophre answerde, “Leeve brother,

900 Everich of yow dide gentilly til oother.Thou art a squier, and he is a knyght;But God forbede, for his blisful myght,But if a clerk koude doon a gentil dedeAs wel as any of yow, it is no drede.

905 Sire, I releesse thee thy thousand pound,As thou right now were cropen out of the ground,Ne nevere er now ne haddest knowen me;For, sire, I wol nat taken a peny of theeFor al my craft, ne noght for my travaille.

910 Thou hast ypayed wel for my vitaille,It is ynogh, and farewel, have good day.”And took his hors, and forth he goth his way.Lordynges, this questioun wolde I aske now,Which was the mooste fre, as thynketh yow?

915 Now telleth me, er that ye ferther wende,I kan namoore, my tale is at an ende.

He said: “Arviragus, of nobleness,Had rather die in sorrow and distressThan that his wife were to her promise false.”

890 He told of Dorigen’s grief, too, and how elseShe had been loath to live a wicked wifeAnd rather would that day have lost her life,And that her troth she swore through ignorance:“She’d ne’er before heard of such simulance;

895 Which made me have for her such great pity.And just as freely as he sent her me,As freely sent I her to him again.This is the sum, there’s no more to explain.” Then answered this philosopher: “Dear brother,

900 Each one of you has nobly dealt with other.You are a squire, true, and he is a knight,But God forbid, what of his blessed might,A clerk should never do a gentle deedAs well as any of you. Of this take heed!

905 Sir, I release to you your thousand pound,As if, right now, you’d crept out of the groundAnd never, before now, had known of me.For, sir, I’ll take of you not one pennyFor all my art and all my long travail.

910 You have paid well for all my meat and ale;It is enough, so farewell, have good day!”And took his horse and went forth on his way.Masters, this question would I ask you now:Which was most generous, do you think, and how.

915 Pray tell me this before you farther wend.I can no more, my tale is at an end.

Heere is ended the Frankeleyns Tale

Notes: Characters:Arveragus – He is a brave Knight who seeks a wife that will enter into a marriage where both parties show patience to each other. Dorigen – She becomes Arveragus’ wife who is unhappy when her husband is away.Aurelius – He is a wealthy neighbor who harbors a secret love for Dorigen.

Summary – There was once a Knight named Arveragus in the land of Brittany. He was brave and prosperous and he wished to make his life complete by taking a suitable wife. He decided to marry a fair maiden named Dorigen, provided she would make a vow with him that they would respect each other and practice patience towards each other’s behavior and words. After they were married, the Knight had to travel to distant lands in order to obtain more wealth. In his absence, his wife Dorigen soon became depressed and mourned her husband’s absence. She felt lonely in her castle on the coast of rocky France and she would spend many an hour contemplating life while gazing at the waves crashing on the rocks at the foot of the cliff. Her wealthy neighbor often invited her to join in the parties that he hosted, but she always refused until one day in May she was persuaded to attend a picnic.

Aurelius, the neighbor, decided he would confess his love for Dorigen, but she repelled his advances. However, he was persistent and in a joke, she said should would agree to his advances if he could remove all the rocks from the coast of Brittany. Despondent, Aurelius prayed to Apollo to send a flood to cover the rocks. Eventually, Arveragus returned home and husband and wife were happy again in each other’s company.

Meanwhile, Aurelius’ brother new of a man who had deciphered a book of magic and on payment of ‘1,000 would cast a spell that would clear the coast of rocks. The deed was performed and Aurelius asked Dorigen to keep her promise. She was much grieved at this outcome and confided in her husband what had happened. The noble Knight told his wife that she must keep her promise even though it was made in jest, and this would deeply grieve and wound him. However, Aurelius, hearing of the sacrifice and nobility of Arveragus could not force himself to take Dorigen, and he sent the woman back to her husband. Aurelius then found that he did not have enough gold to pay the ‘1,000, but the brother’s friend, learning that the bargain was not completed, forgave Aurelius the debt.

The Franklin poses the question at the end – Who was the finest gentleman in the story?

Interpretation – We again have the repeating theme of a three-way love affair in this story, mirroring those that have gone before as in the Knight’s Tale and the Miller’s Tale.

Chaucer now seems to provide a mid course between what the Wife of Bath advocated, where a woman has complete sovereignty over a man, and the Clerk’s Tale where a woman should be completely subservient. Unlike these two tales, the Franklin’s Tale has a thread of nobility running through it and all the characters portrayed.

Here we have the wife refusing to be unfaithful whilst the husband is away, but she feels duty bound to keep a promise even though it was spoken in jest. Her husband insists that she should keep her promise, and then finally the neighbor refuses to hold Dorigen to the oath that she made.

So, in conclusion, everybody has been respectful and honest to everybody else. The moral of the tale therefore, is that one noble deed performed will lead to another, and then another. In this way, good overcomes evil.