The Canterbury Tales, and Other Poems

by Geoffrey Chaucer

And with that word she gan to call
Her messenger, that was in hall,
And bade that he should faste go’n,
Upon pain to be blind anon,
For Aeolus, the god of wind;
“In Thrace there ye shall him find,
And bid him bring his clarioun,
That is full diverse of his soun’,
And it is called Cleare Laud,
With which he wont is to heraud* *proclaim
Them that me list y-praised be,
And also bid him how that he
Bring eke his other clarioun,
That hight* Slander in ev’ry town, *is called
With which he wont is to diffame* *defame, disparage
Them that me list, and do them shame.”
This messenger gan faste go’n,
And found where, in a cave of stone,
In a country that highte Thrace,
This Aeolus, *with harde grace,* *Evil favour attend him!*
Helde the windes in distress,* *constraint
And gan them under him to press,
That they began as bears to roar,
He bound and pressed them so sore.
This messenger gan fast to cry,
“Rise up,” quoth he, “and fast thee hie,
Until thou at my Lady be,
And take thy clarions eke with thee,
And speed thee forth.” And he anon
Took to him one that hight Triton, <70>
His clarions to beare tho,* *then
And let a certain winde go,
That blew so hideously and high,
That it lefte not a sky* *cloud <71>
In all the welkin* long and broad. *sky
This Aeolus nowhere abode* *delayed
Till he was come to Fame’s feet,
And eke the man that Triton hete,* *is called
And there he stood as still as stone.

And therewithal there came anon
Another huge company
Of goode folk, and gan to cry,
“Lady, grant us goode fame,
And let our workes have that name,
Now in honour of gentleness;
And all so God your soule bless;
For we have well deserved it,
Therefore is right we be well quit.”* *requited
“As thrive I,” quoth she, “ye shall fail;
Good workes shall you not avail
To have of me good fame as now;
But, wot ye what, I grante you.
That ye shall have a shrewde* fame, *evil, cursed
And wicked los,* and worse name, *reputation <72>
Though ye good los have well deserv’d;
Now go your way, for ye be serv’d.
And now, Dan Aeolus,” quoth she,
“Take forth thy trump anon, let see,
That is y-called Slander light,
And blow their los, that ev’ry wight
Speak of them harm and shrewedness,* *wickedness, malice
Instead of good and worthiness;
For thou shalt trump all the contrair
Of that they have done, well and fair.”
Alas! thought I, what adventures* *(evil) fortunes
Have these sorry creatures,
That they, amonges all the press,
Should thus be shamed guilteless?
But what! it muste needes be.
What did this Aeolus, but he
Took out his blacke trump of brass,
That fouler than the Devil was,
And gan this trumpet for to blow,
As all the world ’t would overthrow.
Throughout every regioun
Went this foule trumpet’s soun’,
As swift as pellet out of gun
When fire is in the powder run.
And such a smoke gan out wend,* *go
Out of this foule trumpet’s end,
Black, blue, greenish, swart,* and red, *black <73>
As doth when that men melt lead,
Lo! all on high from the tewell;* *chimney <74>
And thereto* one thing saw I well, *also
That the farther that it ran,
The greater waxen it began,
As doth the river from a well,* *fountain
And it stank as the pit of hell.
Alas! thus was their shame y-rung,
And guilteless, on ev’ry tongue.

Then came the thirde company,
And gan up to the dais to hie,* *hasten
And down on knees they fell anon,
And saide, “We be ev’ry one
Folk that have full truely
Deserved fame right fully,
And pray you that it may be know
Right as it is, and forth y-blow.”
“I grante,” quoth she, “for me list
That now your goode works be wist;* *known
And yet ye shall have better los,
In despite of all your foes,
Than worthy* is, and that anon. *merited
Let now,” quoth she, “thy trumpet go’n,
Thou Aeolus, that is so black,
And out thine other trumpet take,
That highte Laud, and blow it so
That through the world their fame may go,
Easily and not too fast,
That it be knowen at the last.”
“Full gladly, Lady mine,” he said;
And out his trump of gold he braid* *pulled forth
Anon, and set it to his mouth,
And blew it east, and west, and south,
And north, as loud as any thunder,
That ev’ry wight had of it wonder,
So broad it ran ere that it stent.* *ceased
And certes all the breath that went
Out of his trumpet’s mouthe smell’d
As* men a pot of balme held *as if
Among a basket full of roses;
This favour did he to their loses.* *reputations

And right with this I gan espy
Where came the fourthe company.
But certain they were wondrous few;
And gan to standen in a rew,* *row
And saide, “Certes, Lady bright,
We have done well with all our might,
But we *not keep* to have fame; *care not
Hide our workes and our name,
For Godde’s love! for certes we
Have surely done it for bounty,* *goodness, virtue
And for no manner other thing.”
“I grante you all your asking,”
Quoth she; “let your workes be dead.”

With that I turn’d about my head,
And saw anon the fifthe rout,* *company
That to this Lady gan to lout,* *bow down
And down on knees anon to fall;
And to her then besoughten all
To hide their good workes eke,
And said, they gave* not a leek *cared
For no fame, nor such renown;
For they for contemplatioun
And Godde’s love had y-wrought,
Nor of fame would they have aught.
“What!” quoth she, “and be ye wood?
And *weene ye* for to do good, *do ye imagine*
And for to have of that no fame?
*Have ye despite* to have my name? *do ye despise*
Nay, ye shall lie every one!
Blow thy trump, and that anon,”
Quoth she, “thou Aeolus, I hote,* *command
And ring these folkes works by note,
That all the world may of it hear.”
And he gan blow their los* so clear *reputation
Within his golden clarioun,
That through the worlde went the soun’,
All so kindly, and so soft,
That their fame was blown aloft.

And then came the sixth company,
And gunnen* fast on Fame to cry; *began
Right verily in this mannere
They saide; “Mercy, Lady dear!
To telle certain as it is,
We have done neither that nor this,
But idle all our life hath be;* *been
But natheless yet praye we
That we may have as good a fame,
And great renown, and knowen* name, *well-known
As they that have done noble gests,* *feats.
And have achieved all their quests,* *enterprises; desires
As well of Love, as other thing;
All* was us never brooch, nor ring, *although
Nor elles aught from women sent,
Nor ones in their hearte meant
To make us only friendly cheer,
But mighte *teem us upon bier;* *might lay us on our bier
Yet let us to the people seem (by their adverse demeanour)*
Such as the world may of us deem,* *judge
That women loven us for wood.* *madly
It shall us do as muche good,
And to our heart as much avail,
The counterpoise,* ease, and travail, *compensation
As we had won it with labour;
For that is deare bought honour,
*At the regard of* our great ease. *in comparison with*
*And yet* ye must us more please; *in addition*
Let us be holden eke thereto
Worthy, and wise, and good also,
And rich, and happy unto love,
For Godde’s love, that sits above;
Though we may not the body have
Of women, yet, so God you save,
Let men glue* on us the name; *fasten
Sufficeth that we have the fame.”
“I grante,” quoth she, “by my troth;
Now Aeolus, withoute sloth,
Take out thy trump of gold,” quoth she,
“And blow as they have asked me,
That ev’ry man ween* them at ease, *believe
Although they go in full *bad leas.”* *sorry plight*
This Aeolus gan it so blow,
That through the world it was y-know.

Then came the seventh rout anon,
And fell on knees ev’ry one,
And saide, “Lady, grant us soon
The same thing, the same boon,
Which *this next folk* you have done.” *the people just before us*
“Fy on you,” quoth she, “ev’ry one!
Ye nasty swine, ye idle wretches,
Full fill’d of rotten slowe tetches!* *blemishes <75>
What? false thieves! ere ye would
*Be famous good,* and nothing n’ould *have good fame*
Deserve why, nor never raught,* *recked, cared (to do so)
Men rather you to hangen ought.
For ye be like the sleepy cat,
That would have fish; but, know’st thou what?
He woulde no thing wet his claws.
Evil thrift come to your jaws,
And eke to mine, if I it grant,
Or do favour you to avaunt.* *boast your deeds
Thou Aeolus, thou King of Thrace,
Go, blow this folk a *sorry grace,”* *disgrace
Quoth she, “anon; and know’st thou how?
As I shall telle thee right now,
Say, these be they that would honour
Have, and do no kind of labour,
Nor do no good, and yet have laud,
And that men ween’d that Belle Isaude <76>
*Could them not of love wern;* *could not refuse them her love*
And yet she that grinds at the quern* *mill <77>
Is all too good to ease their heart.”
This Aeolus anon upstart,
And with his blacke clarioun
He gan to blazen out a soun’
As loud as bellows wind in hell;
And eke therewith, the sooth to tell,
This sounde was so full of japes,* *jests
As ever were mows* in apes; *grimaces
And that went all the world about,
That ev’ry wight gan on them shout,
And for to laugh as they were wood;* *mad
*Such game found they in their hood.* <78> *so were they ridiculed*

Then came another company,
That hadde done the treachery,
The harm, and the great wickedness,
That any hearte coulde guess;
And prayed her to have good fame,
And that she would do them no shame,
But give them los and good renown,
And *do it blow* in clarioun. *cause it to be blown*
“Nay, wis!” quoth she, “it were a vice;
All be there in me no justice,
Me liste not to do it now,
Nor this will I grant to you.”

Then came there leaping in a rout,* *crowd
And gan to clappen* all about *strike, knock
Every man upon the crown,
That all the hall began to soun’;
And saide; “Lady lefe* and dear, *loved
We be such folk as ye may hear.
To tellen all the tale aright,
We be shrewes* every wight, *wicked, impious people
And have delight in wickedness,
As goode folk have in goodness,
And joy to be y-knowen shrews,
And full of vice and *wicked thews;* *evil qualities*
Wherefore we pray you *on a row,* *all together*
That our fame be such y-know
In all things right as it is.”
“I grant it you,” quoth she, “y-wis.
But what art thou that say’st this tale,
That wearest on thy hose a pale,* *vertical stripe
And on thy tippet such a bell?”
“Madame,” quoth he, “sooth to tell,
I am *that ilke shrew,* y-wis, *the same wretch*
That burnt the temple of Isidis,
In Athenes, lo! that city.” <79>
“And wherefore didst thou so?” quoth she.
“By my thrift!” quoth he, “Madame,
I woulde fain have had a name
As other folk had in the town;
Although they were of great renown
For their virtue and their thews,* *good qualities
Thought I, as great fame have shrews
(Though it be naught) for shrewdeness,
As good folk have for goodeness;
And since I may not have the one,
The other will I not forgo’n.
So for to gette *fame’s hire,* *the reward of fame*
The temple set I all afire.
*Now do our los be blowen swithe,
As wisly be thou ever blithe.”* *see note <80>
“Gladly,” quoth she; “thou Aeolus,
Hear’st thou what these folk prayen us?”
“Madame, I hear full well,” quoth he,
“And I will trumpen it, pardie!”
And took his blacke trumpet fast,
And gan to puffen and to blast,
Till it was at the worlde’s end.

With that I gan *aboute wend,* *turn*
For one that stood right at my back
Me thought full goodly* to me spake, *courteously, fairly
And saide, “Friend, what is thy name?
Art thou come hither to have fame?”
“Nay, *for soothe,* friend!” quoth I; *surely*
“I came not hither, *grand mercy,* *great thanks*
For no such cause, by my head!
Sufficeth me, as I were dead,
That no wight have my name in hand.
I wot myself best how I stand,
For what I dree,* or what I think, *suffer
I will myself it alle drink,
Certain, for the more part,
As far forth as I know mine art.”
“What doest thou here, then,” quoth he.
Quoth I, “That will I telle thee;
The cause why I stande here,
Is some new tidings for to lear,* *learn
Some newe thing, I know not what,
Tidings either this or that,
Of love, or suche thinges glad.
For, certainly, he that me made
To come hither, said to me
I shoulde bothe hear and see
In this place wondrous things;
But these be not such tidings
As I meant of.” “No?” quoth he.
And I answered, “No, pardie!
For well I wot ever yet,
Since that first I hadde wit,
That some folk have desired fame
Diversely, and los, and name;
But certainly I knew not how
Nor where that Fame dwelled, ere now
Nor eke of her description,
Nor also her condition,
Nor *the order of her doom,* *the principle of her judgments*
Knew I not till I hither come.”
“Why, then, lo! be these tidings,
That thou nowe hither brings,
That thou hast heard?” quoth he to me.
“But now *no force,* for well I see *no matter*
What thou desirest for to lear.”
Come forth, and stand no longer here.
And I will thee, withoute dread,* *doubt
Into another place lead,
Where thou shalt hear many a one.”