And, for the worship of his mooder deere,
Yet may I synge O Alma loude and cleere.

"This welle1 of mercy, Cristes mooder sweete, I loved alwey, as after my konnynge,

And whan that I my lyf sholde forlete,2 6270
To me she cam, and bad me for to synge
This anthem verraily in my deyynge,

As

ye han herd, and whan that I hadde songe Me thoughte she leyde a greyn up-on my tonge :

Wherfore I synge, and synge I moot certeyn

In honour of that blisful mayden free,
Til fro my tonge of-taken is the greyn;
And afterward thus seyde she to me,
'My litel child, now wol I fecche thee
Whan that the greyn is fro thy tonge ytake;
Be nat agast, I wol thee nat forsake.'"

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This hooly monk, this abbot, hym meene I, His tonge out caughte and took a-wey the (13,601 T.)

greyn,

And he gaf up the goost ful softely.
And whan this abbot hadde this wonder seyn,
Hise salte teeris trikled doun as reyn,

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And gruf he fil, al plat up on the grounde, And stille he lay as he had ben * ybounde. The covent eek lay on the pavement Wepynge, and heryen Cristes mooder deere, And after that they ryse and forth been went, And tooken awey this martir from his beere ;

1 Source. 2 Yield up. 3 Prostrate. 4 Elles. MS. has "leyn."

THE HOST TO CHAUCER.

And in a temple of marbul stones cleere,
Enclosen they his litel body sweete :
Ther he is now, God leve1 us for to meete!

2

O yonge Hugh of Lyncoln, slayn also

With cursed Jewes, as it is notable,
For it is but a litel while ago,

Preye eek for us, we synful folk unstable,
That of his mercy God, so merciable,
On us his grete mercy multiplie

For reverence of his mooder, Marie.

239

6300 (13,619 T.) Amen.

Bihoold the murye wordes of the Hoost to
Chaucer.

Whan seyd was al this miracle, every man As sobre was that wonder was to se, (13,622 T.) Til that oure Hoost japen tho bigan,

3

And thanne at erst he looked up-on me,
And seyde thus: "What man artow?" quod he;
"Thou lookest as thou woldest fynde an hare ;
For evere up-on the ground I se thee stare.
Approche neer, and looke up murily.
Now war yow, sires, and lat this man have

place;

He in the waast is shape as wel as I;
This were a popet in an arm tenbrace
For any woman smal, and fair of face.

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1 Grant. 2 The story of Hugh of Lincoln is dated 1255. A story like the tale of the Prioress, entitled Alphonsus of Lincoln, was printed by the Chaucer Society in 1875. It is dated 1459, however. Elles. MS. has "to." 4 To embrace.

He semeth elvyssh by his contenaunce,
For un-to no wight dooth he daliaunce.
Sey now somwhat, syn oother folk han sayd;
Telle us a tale of myrthe, and that anon."
"Hoost," quod I, "ne beth nat yvele apayd,
For oother tale certes kan I noon, 6320
But of a rym I lerned longe agoon."

"Ye, that is good," quod he, "now shul we

heere

Som deyntee thyng, me thynketh by his cheere!"

Heere bigynneth Chaucers Tale of Thopas.1

THE FIRST FIT.

Listeth, lordes, in good entent,

And I wol telle verrayment

Of myrthe and of solas;

Al of a knyght was fair and gent2
In bataille and in tourneyment,

His name was sire Thopas.

Yborn he was in fer contree,

(13,642 T.)

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In Flaundres al biyonde the see,

At Poperyng, in the place;

(13,650 T.)

His fader was a man ful free,

And lord he was of that contree,

As it was Goddes grace.

1 This laughable burlesque is full of phrases suggestive of the ab surd metrical romances it is intended to satirize by imitation and exaggeration. 2 Gentle. 3 A parish twenty-six miles from Ostend.

"SIRE THOPAS WOLDE OUT RIDE."

Sire Thopas wax a doghty swayn; Whit was his face as payndemayn,1 Hise lippes rede as rose ;

2

His rode is lyk scarlet in grayn,3

And I yow telle in good certayn

He hadde a semely nose.

His heer, his berd, was lyk saffroun, That to his girdel raughte* adoun; Hise shoon of cordewane.

5

Of Brugges were his hosen broun,
His robe was of syklatoun
That coste many a jane.

7

He koude hunte at wilde deer,
And ride an haukyng for river
With grey goshauk on honde;
Ther-to he was a good archeer;

Of wrastlyng was ther noon his peer,
Ther any ram 8 shal stonde.

Ful many a mayde bright in bour9
They moorne for hym, paramour,
Whan hem were bet to slepe;
But he was chaast, and no lechour,
And sweete as is the brembul flour
That bereth the rede hepe.10
And so bifel up-on a day
For sothe, as I yow telle may,
Sire Thopas wolde out ride;

1 Bread of our Lord, the very finest. cochineal. Cf. 1. 9071. 4 Reached. Genoa. River fowl. Cf. 1. 10,926. jng-match. Cf. 1. 548. 9 Chamber. VOL. I. IÓ

241

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2 Complexion. 3 Dyed with 5 A costly cloth. 6 Coin of 8 The usual prize at a wrest10 Fruit of the dog rose.

1

He worth upon his steede gray,
And in his hand a launcegay,
A long swerd by his side.

He priketh thurgh a fair forest
Ther-inne is many a wilde best,
Ye, bothe bukke and hare ;
And as he priketh north and est
I telle it yow hym hadde almest
Bitidde2 a sory care.

Ther spryngen herbes grete and smale,
The lycorys and cetewale

And many a clowe-gylofre,*
And notemuge to putte in ale,
Wheither it be moyste or stale,
Or for to leye in cofre.

The briddes synge, it is no nay,
The sparhauk and the papejay,

That joye it was to heere.

The thrustelcok made eek hir lay,

6370

6380

The wodedowve up-on the spray (13,700 T.)

5

She sang ful loude and cleere.

Sire Thopas fil in love-longynge

Al whan he herde the thrustel synge,

And pryked as he were wood;

His faire steede in his prikynge

So swatte that men myghte him wrynge,
His sydes were al blood.

Sire Thopas eek so wery was

1 Was.

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2 Happened. 8 Valerian. 4 Clove. 5 Wood dove. Rode hard, by spurring his steed.