Phoebus,” quoth he, “for all thy worthiness,
For all thy beauty, and all thy gentleness,
For all thy song, and all thy minstrelsý,
For all thy waiting,4978 bleared is thine eye4979
With one of little reputatión,
Not worth to thee, as in comparison,
The mountance4980 of a gnat, so may I thrive;
For on thy bed thy wife I saw him swive.”
What will ye more? the crow anon him told,
By sadë4981 tokens, and by wordës bold,
How that his wife had done her lechery,
To his great shame and his great villainy;
And told him oft, he saw it with his eyen.
This Phoebus gan awayward for to wrien;4982
Him thought his woeful heartë burst in two.
His bow he bent, and set therein a flo,4983
And in his ire he hath his wifë slain;
This is th’ effect, there is no more to sayn.
For sorrow of which he brake his minstrelsy,
Both harp and lute, gitérn4984 and psaltery;
And eke he brake his arrows and his bow;
And after that thus spake he to the crow.
“Traitor,” quoth he, “with tongue of scorpión,
Thou hast me brought to my confusión;
Alas that I was wrought!4985 why n’ere4986 I dead?
O dearë wife, O gem of lustihead,4987
That wert to me so sad,4988 and eke so true,
Now liest thou dead, with facë pale of hue,
Full guiltëless, that durst I swear y-wis!4989
O rakel4990 hand, to do so foul amiss!4991
O troubled wit, O irë reckëless,
That unadvised smit’st the guiltëless!
O wantrust,4992 full of false suspición!
Where was thy wit and thy discretión?
O! every man beware of rakelness,4993
Nor trow4994 no thing withoutë strong witnéss.
Smite not too soon, ere that ye weetë4995 why,
And be advised4996 well and sickerly4997
Ere ye do any executión
Upon your irë4998 for suspición.
Alas! a thousand folk hath rakel ire
Foully fordone, and brought them in the mire.
Alas! for sorrow I will myselfë slé.”4999
And to the crow, “O falsë thief,” said he,
“I will thee quite anon thy falsë tale.
Thou sung whilom5000 like any nightingale,
Now shalt thou, falsë thief, thy song foregon,5001
And eke thy whitë feathers every one,
Nor ever in all thy lifë shalt thou speak;
Thus shall men on a traitor be awreak.5002
Thou and thine offspring ever shall be blake,5003
Nor ever sweetë noisë shall ye make,
But ever cry against5004 tempést and rain,
In token that through thee my wife is slain.”
And to the crow he start,5005 and that anon,
And pull’d his whitë feathers every one,
And made him black, and reft him all his song,
And eke his speech, and out at door him flung
Unto the devil, which I him betake;5006
And for this causë be all crowës blake.
Lordings, by this ensample, I you pray,
Beware, and takë keep5007 what that ye say;
Nor tellë never man in all your life
How that another man hath dight his wife;
He will you hatë mortally certáin.
Dan Solomon, as wisë clerkës sayn,
Teacheth a man to keep his tonguë well;
But, as I said, I am not textuel.
But natheless thus taughtë me my dame;
“My son, think on the crow, in Goddë’s name.
My son, keep well thy tongue, and keep thy friend;
A wicked tongue is worse than is a fiend:
My sonë, from a fiend men may them bless.5008
My son, God of his endëless goodnéss
Wallëd a tongue with teeth, and lippës eke,
For5009 man should him advisë,5010 what he speak.
My son, full often for too muchë speech
Hath many a man been spilt,5011 as clerkës teach;
But for a little speech advisedly
Is no man shent,5012 to speak generally.
My son, thy tonguë shouldest thou restrain
At allë time, but5013 when thou dost thy pain5014
To speak of God in honour and prayére.
The firstë virtue, son, if thou wilt lear,5015
Is to restrain and keepë well thy tongue;5016
Thus learnë children, when that they be young.
My son, of muchë speaking evil advis’d,
Where lessë speaking had enough suffic’d,
Cometh much harm; thus was me told and taught;
In muchë speechë sinnë wanteth nót.
Wost5017 thou whereof a rakel5018 tonguë serveth?
Right as a sword forcutteth and forcarveth
An arm in two, my dearë son, right so
A tonguë cutteth friendship all in two.
A jangler5019 is to God abomináble.
Read Solomon, so wise and honouráble;
Read David in his Psalms, and read Senec’.
My son, speak not, but with thine head thou beck,5020
Dissimule as thou wert5021 deaf, if that thou hear
A jangler speak of perilous mattére.
The Fleming saith, and learn if that thee lest,5022
That little jangling causeth muchë rest.
My son, if thou no wicked word hast said,
Thee thar not dreadë5023 for to be bewray’d;
But he that hath missaid, I dare well sayn,
He may by no way call his word again.
Thing that is said is said, and forth it go’th,5024
Though him repent, or be he ne’er so loth;
He is his thrall,5025 to whom that he hath said
A tale, of which he is now evil apaid.5026
My son, beware, and be no author new
Of tidings, whether they be false or true;5027
Whereso thou come, amongës high or low,
Keep well thy tongue, and think upon the crow.”
The Parson’s Tale
The Prologue
By that the Manciple his tale had ended,
The sunnë from the south line was descended
So lowë, that it was not to my sight
Degreës nine-and-twenty as in height.
Four of the clock it was then, as I guess,
For eleven foot, a little more or less,
My shadow was at thilkë time, as there,
Of such feet as my
