He looketh as it were a grim lión;
And on his toes he roameth up and down,
Him deignèd not to set his feet to ground:
He chucketh, when he hath a corn yfound,
And to him rennen then his wivès all.
Thus royal, as a prince is in his hall,
Leave I this Chanticleer in his pastúre;
And after will I tell his áventúre.
When that the month in which the world began,
That hightè March, when God first makèd man,
Was cómplete, and ypassèd were also,
Sithen[364] March began, thirty dayès and two,
Befell that Chanticleer in all his pride,
His seven wivès walking by his side,
Cast up his eyen to the brightè sun,
That in the sign of Taurus had yrun
Twenty degrees and one, and somewhat more:
He knew by kind,[365] and by none other lore,
That it was prime, and crew with blissful steven,[366]
"The sun," he said, "is clomben up on heaven
Forty degrees and one, and more ywis.[367]
Madamè Partèlote, my worldès bliss,
Hearkeneth these blissful birdès how they sing,
And see the freshè flowers how they spring;
Full is mine heart of revel and soláce."
But suddenly him fell a sorrowful case;
For ever the latter end of joy is woe:
God wot that worldly joy is soon ago;
And if a rethor[368] couldè fair indite,
He in a chronique safely might it write,
As for a sovereign notability.
Now every wise man, let him hearken me:
This story is also[369] true, I undertake,
As is the book of Launcelot de Lake,
That women hold in full great reverénce.
Now will I turn again to my senténce.
A col fox,[370] full of sly iniquity,
That in the grove had wonèd[371] yearès three,
By high imaginatìón forncast,[372]
The samè night throughout the hedges brast[373]
Into the yard, there Chanticleer the fair
Was wont, and eke his wivès, to repair;
And in a bed of wortès[374] still he lay,
Till it was passèd undern[375] of the day,
Waiting his time on Chanticleer to fall:
As gladly do these homicidès all,
That in awaitè lie to murder men.
O falsè murderer! lurking in thy den!
O newè 'Scariot, newè Genelon!
Falsè dissimulour, O Greek Sinon.
That broughtest Troy all utterly to sorrow!
O Chanticleer! accursèd be that morrow,
That thou into that yard flew from the beams,
Thou were full well ywarnèd by thy dreams,
That thilkè day was perilous to thee.
But what that God forewot[376] mote needès be,
After the opinìón of certain clerkès.
Witness on him that any perfect clerk is,
That in school is great altercatìón
In this mattér, and great disputison,
And hath been of an hundred thousand men.
But I ne cannot bolt[377] it to the bren,[378]
As can the holy doctor Augustin,
Or Boece, or the bishop Bradwardin,
Whether that Godès worthy forewïtíng[379]
Straineth me needly for to do a thing,—
Needly clepe I simple necessity—
Or ellès if free choice be granted me
To do that samè thing, or do it nought,
Though God forewot it ere that it was wrought;
Or if his witing[380] straineth never a del,
But by necessity conditionèl.
I will not have to do of such mattère;
My tale is of a cock, as ye may hear,
That took his counsel of his wife with sorrow
To walken in the yard upon that morrow
That he had met[381] the dream, that I of told.
Womenès counsels be full often cold;
Womanès counsel brought us first to woe,
And made Adám from Paradise to go,
There as he was full merry, and well at ease.
But for I not,[382] to whom it might displease,
If I counsél of women wouldè blame,
Pass over, for I said it in my game.
Read authors, where they treat of such mattére,
And what they say of women ye may hear.
These be the cockès wordès, and not mine;
I can none harm of no woman divine.[383]
Fair in the sand, to bathe her merrily,
Lieth Partelote, and all her sisters by,
Again the sun; and Chanticleer so free
Sang merrier than the mermaid in the sea;
For Physiologus saith sikerly,[384]
How that they singen well and merrily.
And so befell that as he cast his eye
Among the wortès on a butterfly,
He was ware of this fox that lay full low.
Nothing ne list him thennè for to crow,
But cried anon "Cock! cock!" and up he start,[385]
As man that was affrayèd in his heart.
For naturally a beast desireth flee
From his contráry, if he may it see,
Though he ne'er erst[386] had seen it with his eye.
This Chanticleer, when he gan him espy,
He would have fled, but that the fox anon
Said, "Gentle Sir, alas! why will ye gon?
Be ye afraid of me that am your friend?
Now certes, I were worsè than a fiend,
If I to you would harm or villainy.
I am not come your counsel for to espy,
But truèly the cause of my comíng
Was only for to hearken how that ye sing:
For truèly ye have as merry a steven,[387]
As any angel hath that is in heaven;
Therewith ye have in music more feelíng,
Than had Boece, or any that can sing.
My lord your father! God his soulè bless
And eke your mother of her gentillesse,
Have in mine house ybeen, to my great ease:
And certes, sir, full fain would I you please.
But for men speak of singing, I will say,
So mote I brooken[388] well my eyen tway,
Save you, I heardè never man so sing,
As did your father in the morwening.
Certes it was of heart all that he sung.
And for to make his voice the morè strong,
He would so pain him, that with both his eyen
He mustè wink, so loud he wouldè crien,
And standen on his tipton therewithal,
And stretchen forth his neckè long and small.
And eke he was of such discretìón,
That there nas no man in no regìón,
That him in song or wisdom mightè pass.
I have well read in Dan Burnel the ass
Among his verse, how that there was a cock,
For that a priestès son gave him a knock
Upon his leg, while he was young and nice,[389]
He made him for to lese his benefice.
But certain there nis no comparisón
Betwix the wisdom and discretìón
Of your fathèr, and of his subtilty.
Now singeth, sir, for saintè Charity,
Let see, can ye your father counterfeit?"
This Chanticleer his wingès gan to beat,
As man that could his treason not espy,
So was he ravished with his flattery.
Alas! ye lordès, many a false flatour[390]
Is in your courts, and many a losengeour,[390]
That pleasen you well morè, by my faith,
Than he that soothfastness[391] unto you saith.
Readeth Ecclesiast of flattèry,
Beware, ye lordès, of hir treachery.
This Chanticleer stood high upon his toes
Stretching his neck, and held his eyen close,
And gan to crowen loudè for the nonce:
And Dan Russèl the fox start up at once,
And by the garget[392] hentè[393] Chanticleer,
And on his back toward the wood him bare.
For yet ne was there no man that him sued.[394]
O destiny, that mayst not be eschewed!
Alas, that Chanticleer flew from the beams!
Alas, his wife ne raughtè[395] not of dreams!
And on a Friday fell all this mischance.
O Venus, that art goddess of pleasánce.
Sin that thy servant was this Chanticleer,
And in thy service did all his powér,
More for delight, than world to multiply,
Why wouldst thou suffer him on thy day to die?
O Gaufrid, dearè master sovèreígn,
That, when thy worthy king Richárd was slain
With shot, complainedest his death so sore,
Why nad[396] I now thy sentence and thy lore,
The Friday for to chide, as diden ye?—
For on a Friday soothly slain was he,—
Then would I shew you how that I could plain
For Chanticleerès dread, and for his pain.
Certes such cry, ne lamentatìón
Was ne'er of ladies made, when Ilión
Was won, and Pyrrhus with his streitè[397] swerd,
When he had hent king Priam by the beard,
And slain him, as saith us Ænéidós,
As maden all the hennès in the close,
When they had seen of Chanticleer the sight.
But sovereignly Dame Partèlotè shright,[398]
Full louder than did Hasdrubalès wife,
When that her husband haddè lost his life,
And that the Romans haddè burnt Cartháge.
She was so full of torment and of rage,
That willfully into the fire she start,
And brent[399] herselven with a steadfast heart.
O woful hennès! right so crieden ye,
As when that Nero brentè[399] the city
Of Romè, crieden senatorès wives
For that their husbands losten all hir lives;
Withouten guilt this Nero hath hem slain.
Now will I turnè to my tale again;
This sely[400] widow, and eke her daughters two,
Hearden these hennès cry and maken woe,
And out at doorès starten they anon,
And saw the fox toward the grovè gon,
And bare upon his back the cock away:
They crieden, "Out! harow and welawa!
Ha, ha! the fox!" and after him they ran,
And eke with stavès many another man;
Ran Coll our dog, and Talbot, and Garland,
And Malkin with a distaff in her hand;
Ran cow and calf, and eke the very hoggès,
So were they feared for barking of the doggès,
And shouting of the men and women eke,
They rannen so, hem thought hir heartè breke.[401]
They yellèden as fiendès do in hell:
The duckès crieden as men would hem quell:
The geese for fearè flewen o'er the trees,
Out of the hivè came the swarm of bees,
So hideous was the noise, a! ben'cite!
Certes he Jackè Straw, and his meyné,[402]
Ne maden never shoutès half so shrill,
When that they woulden any Fleming kill,
As thilkè day was made upon the fox.
Of brass they broughten beamès[403] and of box,
Of horn and bone, in which they blew and poopèd,[404]
And therewithal they shriekèd and they hoopèd[405],
It seemèd as that heaven shouldè fall.
Now, goodè men, I pray you hearkeneth all;
Lo, how Fortunè turneth suddenly
The hope and pride eke of her enemy.
This cock that lay upon the fox's back,
In all his dread, unto the fox he spake,
And saidè, "Sir, if that I were as ye,
Yet would I say, as wis[406] God helpè me,
'Turneth again, ye proudè churlès all;
A very pestilence upon you fall!
Now am I come unto the woodès side,
Maugre your head, the cock shall here abide:
I will him eat in faith, and that anon.'"
The fox answéred, "In faith, it shall be done:"
And as he spake that word, all suddenly
This cock brake from his mouth deliverly,[407]
And high upon a tree he flew anon.
And when the fox saw that he was ygone,
"Alas!" quoth he, "O Chanticleer, alas!
I have to you," quoth he, "ydone trespáss,
Inasmuch as I makèd you afeard,
When I you hent,[408] and brought out of the yard;
But, sir, I did it of no wicke[409] intent:
Come down, and I shall tell you what I meant.
I shall say sooth to you, God help me so."
"Nay then," quoth he, "I shrew[410] us bothè two.
And first I shrew myself, both blood and bonès,
If thou beguile me any ofter than onès.
Thou shalt no morè through thy flattery
Do[411] me to sing and winken with mine eye.
For he that winketh when he shouldè see,
All willfully, God let him never the[412]!"
"Nay," quoth the fox, "but God give him mischance,
That is so indiscreet of governánce,
That jangleth[413] when he shouldè hold his peace."
Lo, such it is for to be reckèless
And negligent, and trust on flattery.
But ye that holden this tale a folly,
As of a fox, or of a cock and hen,
Take the morality thereof, good men.
For Saint Paul saith, That all that written is,
To our doctríne it is ywrit ywis,[414]
Taketh the fruit, and let the chaff be still.
Now goode God, if that it be thy will,
As saith my lord, so make us all good men;
And bring us to his highè bliss.—Amen.
TRUTH
BALLADE OF GOOD COUNSEL
Flee from the press, and dwell with soothfastness[415];
Suffice thine owen thing, though it be small;
For hoard hath hate, and climbing tickleness,[416]
Press hath envy, and weal blent[417] overall[418];
Savour no more than thee behove shall;
Rule well thyself, that other folk canst rede[419];
And truthè shall deliver, it is no drede.[420]
Tempest thee not all crooked to redress,
In trust of her that turneth as a ball:
For great rest stands in little businéss;
Beware also to spurn against an awl;
Strive not as doth the crockè with the wall;
Dauntè thyself that dauntest otherès deed,
And truthè shall deliver, it is no drede.[420]
That[421] thee is sent receive in buxomness,[422]
The wrestling for this world asketh a fall:
Here is none home, here nis[423] but wilderness:
Forth, pilgrim, forth! Forth, beast, out of thy stall!
Know thy country, look up, thank God of all;
Hold the high way, and let thy ghost[424] thee lead,
And truthè shall deliver, it is no drede.[420]
ENVOY
Therfore, thou vache,[425] leave thine old wretchedness
Unto the worldè; leave now to be thrall;
Cry him mercy, that of his high goodnéss
Made thee of nought, and in especìál
Draw unto him, and pray in generál
For thee, and eke for other, heavenly meed,
And truthè shall deliver, it is no drede.[420]