Let us no morë wordës of it make.
Forsooth, I will no longer you contráry.”
Now let us turn again to January,
That in the garden with his fairë May
Singeth well merrier than the popinjay:2989
“You love I best, and shall, and other none.”
So long about the alleys is he gone,
Till he was comë to that ilkë perry,2990
Where as this Damian sattë full merry
On high, among the freshë leavës green.
This freshë May, that is so bright and sheen,
Gan for to sigh, and said, “Alas my side!
Now, Sir,” quoth she, “for aught that may betide,
I must have of the pearës that I see,
Or I must die, so sorë longeth me
To eaten of the smallë pearës green;
Help, for her love that is of heaven queen!
I tell you well, a woman in my plight
May have to fruit so great an appetite,
That she may dien, but2991 she of it have.”
“Alas!” quoth he, “that I had here a knave2992
That couldë climb; alas! alas!” quoth he,
“For I am blind.” “Yea, Sir, no force,”2993 quoth she;
“But would ye vouchësafe, for Goddë’s sake,
The perry in your armës for to take
(For well I wot that ye mistrustë me),
Then would I climbë well enough,” quoth she,
“So I my foot might set upon your back.”
“Certes,” said he, “therein shall be no lack,
Might I you helpë with mine heartë’s blood.”
He stooped down, and on his back she stood,
And caught her by a twist,2994 and up she go’th.
(Ladies, I pray you that ye be not wroth,
I cannot glose,2995 I am a rudë man):
And suddenly anon this Damian
Gan pullen up the smock, and in he throng.2996
And when that Pluto saw this greatë wrong,
To January he gave again his sight,
And made him see as well as ever he might.
And when he thus had caught his sight again,
Was never man of anything so fain:
But on his wife his thought was evermo’.
Up to the tree he cast his eyen two,
And saw how Damian his wife had dress’d,
In such mannére, it may not be express’d,
But if2997 I wouldë speak uncourteously.
And up he gave a roaring and a cry,
As doth the mother when the child shall die;
“Out! help! alas! harow!” he gan to cry;
“O strongë, lady, stowre!2998 what doest thou?”
And she answered: “Sir, what aileth you?
Have patience and reason in your mind,
I have you help’d on both your eyen blind.
On peril of my soul, I shall not lien,
As me was taught to helpë with your eyen,
Was nothing better for to make you see,
Than struggle with a man upon a tree:
God wot, I did it in full good intent.”
“Struggle!” quoth he, “yea, algate in it went.
God give you both one shamë’s death to dien!
He swived thee; I saw it with mine eyen;
And ellës be I hanged by the halse.”2999
“Then is,” quoth she, “my medicine all false;
For certainly, if that ye mightë see,
Ye would not say these wordës unto me.
Ye have some glimpsing,3000 and no perfect sight.”
“I see,” quoth he, “as well as ever I might,
(Thanked be God!) with both mine eyen two,
And by my faith me thought he did thee so.”
“Ye maze, ye mazë,3001 goodë Sir,” quoth she;
“This thank have I for I have made you see:
Alas!” quoth she, “that e’er I was so kind.”
“Now, Dame,” quoth he, “let all pass out of mind;
Come down, my lefe,3002 and if I have missaid,
God help me so, as I am evil apaid.3003
But, by my father’s soul, I ween’d have seen
How that this Damian had by thee lain,
And that thy smock had lain upon his breast.”
“Yea, Sir,” quoth she, “ye may ween as ye lest:3004
But, Sir, a man that wakes out of his sleep,
He may not suddenly well takë keep3005
Upon a thing, nor see it perfectly,
Till that he be adawed3006 verily.
Right so a man, that long hath blind y-be,
He may not suddenly so well y-see,
First when his sight is newë come again,
As he that hath a day or two y-seen.
Till that your sight establish’d be a while,
There may full many a sightë you beguile.
Beware, I pray you, for, by heaven’s king,
Full many a man weeneth to see a thing,
And it is all another than it seemeth;
He which that misconceiveth oft misdeemeth.”3007
And with that word she leapt down from the tree.
This January, who is glad but he?
He kissed her, and clipped3008 her full oft,
And on her womb he stroked her full soft;
And to his palace home he hath her lad.3009
Now, goodë men, I pray you to be glad.
Thus endeth here my tale of Januáry,
God bless us, and his mother, Saintë Mary.
The Squire’s Tale
The Prologue
“Hey! Goddë’s mercy!” said our Hostë tho,3010
“Now such a wife I pray God keep me fro’.
Lo, suchë sleightës and subtilities
In women be; for aye as busy as bees
Are they us silly men for to deceive,
And from the soothë3011 will they ever weive,3012
As this Merchantë’s tale it proveth well.
But natheless, as true as any steel,
I have a wife, though that she poorë be;
But of her tongue a labbing3013 shrew is she;
And yet3014 she hath a heap of vices mo’.
Thereof no force;3015 let all such thingës go.
But wit3016 ye what? in counsel3017 be it said,
Me rueth sore I am unto her tied;
For, an’3018 I shouldë reckon every vice
Which that she hath, y-wis3019 I were too nice;3020
And causë why, it should reported be
And told her by some of this companý
(By whom, it needeth not for to declare,
Since women connen utter such chaffáre),3021
And eke my wit sufficeth not thereto
To tellen all; wherefore my tale is do.
