Walter hire gladeth, and hire sorwe slaketh,
She riseth up abashed from hire trance,
And every wight hire joye and feste maketh,
Til she hath caught agen hire contenance.
Walter hire doth so faithfully plesance,
That it was deintee for to seen the chere
Betwix hem two, sin they ben met in fere.
Thise ladies, whan that they hir time sey,
Han taken hire, and into chambre gon,
And stripen hire out of hire rude arrey,
And in a cloth of gold that brighte shone,
With a coroune of many a riche stone
Upon hire hed, they into hall hire broughte:
And ther she was honoured as hire ought.
Thus hath this pitous day a blisful end;
For every man, and woman, doth his might
This day in mirth and revel to dispend,
Til on the welkin shone the sterres bright:
For more solempne in every mannes sight
This feste was, and greter of costage,
Than was the revel of hire mariage.
Ful many a yere in high prosperitee
Liven thise two in concord and in rest,
And richely his doughter maried he
Unto a lord, on of the worthiest
Of all Itaille, and than in pees and rest
His wives fader in his court he kepeth,
Til that the soule out of his body crepeth.
His sone succedeth in his heritage,
In rest and pees, after his fadres day:
And fortunat was eke in mariage,
Al put he not his wif in gret assay:
This world is not so strong, it is no nay,
As it hath ben in olde times yore,
And herkneth, what this auctour saith therfore.
This story is said, not for that wives shuld
Folwe Grisilde, as in humilitee,
For it were importable, tho they wold;
But for that every wight in his degree
Shulde be constant in adversitee,
As was Grisilde, therfore Petrark writeth
This storie, which with high stile he enditeth.
For sith a woman was so patient
Unto o mortal man, wel more we ought
Receiven all in gree that God us sent.
For gret skill is he preve that he wrought:
But he ne tempteth no man that he bought,
As saith seint Jame, if ye his pistell rede;
He preveth folk al day, it is no drede:
And suffreth us, as for our exercise,
With sharpe scourges of adversitee
Ful often to be bete in sondry wise;
Not for to know our will, for certes he,
Or we were borne, knew all our freeletee;
And for our best is all his governance;
Let us than live in vertuous suffrance.
But o word, lordings, herkeneth, or I go :
It were ful hard to finden now adayes
In all a toun Grisildes three or two:
For if that they were put to swiche assayes,
The gold of hem hath now so bad alayes
With bras, that though the coine be faire at eye,
It wolde rather brast atwo than plie.
For which here, for the wives love of Bathe,
Whos lif and al hire secte God maintene
In high maistre, and elles were it scathe,
I wol with lusty herte freshe and grene,
Say you a song to gladen you, I wene:
And let us stint of ernestful matere.
Herkneth my song, that saith in this manere.
Grisilde is ded, and eke hire patience,
And both at ones buried in Itaille :
For which I crie in open audience,
No wedded man so hardy be to assaille
His wives patience, in trust to find
Grisildes, for in certain he shal faille.
O noble wives, ful of high prudence,
Let non humilitee your tonges naile :
Ne let no clerk have cause or diligence
To write of you a storie of swiche mervaille,
As of Grisildis patient and kinde,
Lest Chichevache you swalwe in hire entraille.
Folweth Ecco, that holdeth no silence,
But ever answereth at the countretaille :
Beth not bedaffed for your innocence,
But sharply taketh on you the governaille :
Emprenteth wel this lesson in your minde,
For comun profit, sith it may availle.
Ye archewives, stondeth ay at defence,
Sin ye be strong, as is a gret camaille,
Ne suffreth not, that men do you offence.
And sclendre wives, feble as in bataille,
Beth egre as is a tigre yond in Inde;
Ay clappeth as a mill, I you counsaille.
Ne drede hem not, doth hem no reverence,
For though thin husbond armed be in maille,
The arwes of thy crabbed eloquence
Shal perce his brest, and eke his aventaille :
In jalousie I rede eke thou him binde,
And thou shalt make him couche as doth a quaille.
If thou be faire, ther folk ben in presence
Shew thou thy visage, and thin apparaille :
If thou be foule, be free of thy dispence,
To get thee frendes ay do thy travaille :
Be ay of chere as light as lefe on linde,
And let him care, and wepe, and wringe, and waille.
YE, let that passen," quod our Hoste, "as now, "Sire Doctour of Physike, I prey you,
Tell us a tale of some honest matere."
"It shal be don, if that ye wol it here,"
Said this Doctour, and his tale began anon. "Now, good men," quod he, "herkeneth everich on."
THER was, as telleth Titus Livius,
A knight, that cleped was Virginius,
Fulfilled of honour and worthinesse,
And strong of frendes, and of gret richesse.
This knight a doughter hadde by his wif:
No children had he mo in all his lif.
Faire was this maid in excellent beautee
Aboven every wight that man may see:
For Nature hath with soveraine diligence
Yformed hire in so gret excellence,
As though she wolde sayn, "Lo, I Nature,
Thus can I forme and peint a creature,
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