Geoffrey Chaucer, The Canterbury Tales: The Clerk's Tale, Part Six (A Minimalist Translation) Poem by Forrest Hainline

Geoffrey Chaucer, The Canterbury Tales: The Clerk's Tale, Part Six (A Minimalist Translation)

From Bologna is this Earl of Panyk come,
Of which the fame up sprang to more and less,
And to the people's ears, all and some,
Was known eek that a new marchioness
He with him brought, in such pomp and riches
That never was there seen with man's eye
So noble array in all West Lombardy.

The marquis, which that shaped and knew all this,
Ere that this earl was come, sent his messenger
For that seely poor Griseldis
And she with humble heart and glad visage,
Not with no swollen thought in her heart,
Came at his hest, and on her knees her set,
And reverently and wisely she him greet.

"Griselda, " said he, "my will is utterly
This maiden, that shall wedded be to me,
Received be tomorrow as royally
As it possible is in my house to be,
And also that every wight in his degree,
Have his estate, in seating and service
And high pleasance, as I can best devise.

"I have no women sufficient, certain,
The chambers for to array in ordinance
After my lust, and therefore would I fain
That thine were all such manner governance.
Thou knowest eek of old all my pleasance;
Though thy array be bad and evil biseye,
Do thou thy devoir at the least way."

"Not only, lord, that I am glad, " said she,
"To do your lust, but I desire also
You for to serve and please in my degree
Without fainting, and shall evermo;
Nor never, for no weel nor no woe,
Nor shall the ghost within my heart stent
To love you best with all my true intent."

And with that word she gan the house to dight,
And tables for to set, and beds make;
And pained her to do all that she might,
Praying the chamberers, for God's sake,
To hasten them, and fast sweep and shake;
And she, the most serviceable of all,
Has every chamber arrayed and his hall.

About undern gan this earl alight,
That with him brought these noble children two,
For which the people ran to see the sight
Of their array, so richly beseye;
And then at first among them they say
That Walter was no fool, though that he lest
To change his wife, for it was for the best.

For she is fairer, as they deem all,
Than is Griselda, and more tender of age,
And fairer fruit between them should fall,
And more pleasant, for her high lineage.
Her brother eek so fair was of visage
That them to see the people hath caught pleasance,
Commending now the marquis's governance.

"O stormy people! Unsad and ever untrue!
Aye indiscreet and changing as a fane!
Delighting ever in rumor that is new,
For like the moon aye wax you and wane!
Aye full of clapping, dear enough a jane!
Your doom is false, your constance evil proveth;
A full great fool is he that on you believeth."

Thus said sad folk in that city,
When that the people gazed up and down,
For they were glad, right for the novelty,
To have a new lady of their town.
No more of this make I now mention,
But to Griselda again will I me dress,
And tell her constancy and her business.

Full busy was Griselda in every thing
That to the feast was pertinent.
Right not was she abashed of her clothing,
Though it were crude and somedeal eek torent;
But with glad cheer to the gate is went
With other folk to greet the marchioness,
And after that does forth her business.

With glad cheer his guests she receives,
And so cunningly, each in his degree,
That no defect no man perceives,
But aye they wonder what she might be
That in so poor array was for to see,
And knew such honor and reverence,
And worthily they praise her prudence.

In all this meanwhile she ne stent
This maid and eek her brother to commend
With all her heart, in full benign intent,
So well that no man could her praise amend.
But at the last, when that these lords wend
To sit down to mete, he gan to call
Griselda, as she was busy in his hall.

"Griselda, " said he, as it were in his play,
"How liketh thee my wife and her beauty? "
"Right well, " said she, "my lord; for, in good faith,
A fairer saw I never none than she.
I pray to God to give her prosperity;
And so hope I that he will to you send
Pleasance enough unto your lives' end.

"One thing beseech I you, and warn also,
That you not prick with no tormenting
This tender maiden, as you have done mo;
For she is fostered in her nourishing
More tenderly, and, to my supposing,
She could not adversity endure
As could a poor fostered creature."

And when this Walter saw her patience,
Her glad cheer, and no malice at all,
And he so oft had done to her offence,
And she aye sad and constant as a wall,
Continuing ever her innocence overall,
This sturdy marquis gan his heart dress
To rue upon her wifely steadfastness.

1051 "This is enough, Griselda mine, " said he;
"Be now no more frightened nor evil apayed.
I have thy faith and thy goodness,
As well as ever woman was, assayed,
In great estate and in poverty arrayed.
Now know I, dear wife, thy steadfastness" -
And her in arms took and gan her kiss.

And she for wonder took of it no keep;
She heard not what thing he to her said;
She fared as if she had start out of a sleep,
Til she out of her mazedness abraid.
"Griselda, " said he, "by God, that for us died,
Thou art my wife, no none other I have,
Nor never had, as God my soul save!

"This is thy daughter, which thou hast supposed
To be my wife; that other faithfully
Shall be my heir, as I have aye disposed;
Thou bore him in thy body truly.
At Bologna I have kept them privily;
Take them again, for now mayst thou not say
That thou hast lorn none of thy children tway.

"And folk that otherwise have said of me,
I warn them well that I have done this deed
For no malice, nor for no cruelty,
But for to assay in thee thy womanhood,
And not to slay my children -God forbid! -
But to keep them privily and still,
Til I thy purpose knew and all thy will."

When she this heard, a swoon down she falls
For piteous joy, and after her swooning
She both her young children to her calls,
And in her arms, piteously weeping,
Embraces them, and tenderly kissing
Full like a mother, with her salt tears
She bathed both their visage and their hairs.

O what a piteous thing it was to see
Her swooning, and her humble voice to hear!
"Grant mercy, lord, God thank it you, " said she,
"That you have saved me my children dear!
Now reck I never to be dead right here;
Since I stand in your love and in your grace,
No fear of death, nor when my spirit pace!

"O tender, o dear, o young children mine!
Your woeful mother wend steadfastly
That cruel hounds or some foul vermin
Had eaten you; but God of his mercy
And your benign father tenderly
Hath done you kept " -and in that same stound
All suddenly she swept adown to ground.

And in her swoon so sadly holdeth she
Her children two, when she gan them embrace,
That with great sleight and great difficulty
The children from her arm they gone arace.
O many a tear on many a piteous face
Down ran of them that stood her beside;
Uneath about her might they abide.

Walter her gladdens and her sorrow slake;
She rises up, abashed, from her trance,
And every wight her joy and feast make
Til she hath caught again her countenance.
Walter her does so faithfully pleasance
That it was dainty for to see the cheer
Betwixt them two, now they be met ifere.

These ladies, when that they their time say,
Have taken her and into chamber go,
And strip her out of her rude array,
And in a cloth of gold that brightly shone,
With a crown of many a rich stone
Upon her head, they into hall her brought,
And there she was honored as her ought.

Thus hath this piteous day a blissful end,
For every man and woman does his might
This day in mirth and revel to dispend
Til on the welkin shone the stars' light.
For more solemn in every man's sight
This feast was, and greater of costage,
Than was the revel of their marriage.

Full many a year in high prosperity
Live these two in concord and in rest,
And richly his daughter married he
Unto a lord, one of the worthiest
Of all Italy; and then in peace and rest
His wife's father in his court he keepeth,
Til that the soul out of his body creepeth.

His son succeedeth in his heritage
In rest and peace, after his father's day,
And fortunate was eek in marriage,
All put he not his wife in great assay.
This world is not so strong, there is no nay,
As it hath been in old times yore,
And hearken what this author says therefore.

This story is said not for that wives should
Follow Griselda as in humility,
For it were unbearable, though would,
But so that every wight, in his degree,
Should be constant in adversity
As was Griselda; therefore Petrarch writes
This story, which with high style he endites.

For since a woman was so patient
Unto a mortal man, well more us ought
Receive all in gree that God us sent;
For great skill is he prove that he wrought.
But he ne tempts no man that he bought,
As says Saint James, if you his pistle read;
He proves folk all day, it is no dread,

And suffers us, as for our exercise
With sharp scourges of adversity
Full oft to be beat in sundry wise;
Not for to know our will, for certain he,
Ere we were born, knew all our frailty;
And for our best is all his governance.
Let us then live in virtuous sufferance.

But one word, lordings, hearken ere I go:
It were full hard to find now-a-days
In all a town Griseldas three or two;
For if that they were put to such assays,
The gold of them has now been so badly allays
With brass, that though the coin be fair at eye,
It would rather brest a-two than ply.

For which here, for the Wife's love of Bath -
Whose life and all her sect God maintain
In high mastery, and else were it scathe -
I will with lusty heart, fresh and green,
Say you a song to glad you, I ween;
And let us stint of earnestful matter.
Hearken my song that says in this manner:

Lenvoy de Chaucer

Griselda is dead, and eek her patience,
And both at-ones buried in Italy;
For which I cry in open audience
No wedded man so hardy be to assail
His wife's patience in trust to find
Griselda, for in certain he shall fail.

O noble wives, full of high prudence,
Let no humility your tongue nail,
Nor let no clerk have cause or diligence
To write of you a story of such marvel
As of Griselda patient and kind,
Lest Chichevache you swallow in her entrails!

Follow Echo, that holds no silence,
But ever answers at the countretaille.
Be not bedaffed for your innocence,
But sharply take on you the governall.
Imprint well this lesson in your mind,
For common profit since it may avail.

You arch-wives, standeth at defense,
Since you be strong as is a great camel;
Ne suffer not that men you do offense.
And slender wives, feeble as in battle,
Be fierce as is a tiger yonder in Indy
Ever clappeth as a mile, I you counsel.

No dread them not; do them no reverence,
For though thy husband armed be in mail,
The arrows of thy crabbed eloquence
Shall pierce his breast and eek his aventail.
In jealousy I rede eek thou him bind,
And thou shalt make him couche as does a quail.

If thou be fair, there folk be in presence,
Show thou thy visage and thy apparel;
If thou be foul, be fee of thy dispense;
To get thee friends aye do thy travail;
Be aye of cheer as light as leaf on linden,
And let him care, and weep, and wring, and wail
[Behold the merry words of the Host
This worthy Clerk, when ended was his tale,
Our Host said, and swore, "By God's bones,
Me were lever than a barrel ale
My wife at home had heard this legend once!
This is a gentle tale for the nones,
As to my purposes, wist you my will;
But thing that will not be, let it be still."

© 2020
Forrest Hainline