Canterbury Tales (Barnes & Noble Classics Series)

by Geoffrey Chaucer

And when she homeward went, she would often bring

  Plants or other herbs,

  Which she shredded and boiled for her living,

  And made her bed full hard and nothing soft;

  And ever she her father’s life sustained

  With every obedience and diligence

  That a child may do for her parent.

  Up-on Grisilde, this povre creature,

  Ful ofte sythe this markis sette his ye

  As he on hunting rood paraventure;

  And whan it fil that he mighte hir espye,

  He noght with wantoun loking of folye

  His yen caste on hir, but in sad wyse

  Up-on hir chere he wolde him ofte avyse,

  Commending in his herte hir wommanhede,

  And eek hir vertu, passing any wight

  Of so yong age, as wel in chere as dede.

  For thogh the peple have no greet insight

  In vertu, he considered ful right

  Hir bountee, and disposed that he wolde

  Wedde hir only, if ever he wedde sholde.

  The day of wedding cam, but no wight can

  Telle what womman that it sholde be;

  For which merveille wondred many a man,

  And seyden, whan they were in privetee,

  “Wol nat our lord yet leve his vanitee?

  Wol he nat wedde? alias, alias the whyle!

  Why wol he thus him-self and us bigyle?”

  But natheles this markis hath don make

  Of gemmes, set in gold and in asure,

  Broches and ringes, for Grisildis sake,

  And of hir clothing took he the mesure

  By a mayde, lyk to hir stature,

  And eek of othere ornamentes alle

  That un-to swich a wedding sholde falle.

  The tyme of undern of the same day

  Approcheth; that this wedding sholde be;

  And al the paleys put was in array,

  Bothe halle and chambres, ech in his degree;

  Houses of office stuffed with plentee

  Ther maystow seen of deyntevous vitaille,

  That may be founde, as fer as last Itaille.

  Upon Griselda, this poor creature,

  Full oftentimes this marquis set his eye

  As he while hunting by chance rode by;

  And when it befell that he might her espy,

  He not with wanton, foolish looks

  His eyes cast upon her, but in a serious way

  Upon her face he would often ponder,

  Commending in his heart her womanhood,

  And also her virtue, surpassing any person

  Of so young age, as well in looks as deed.

  For though common folk have no great insight

  In virtue, he considered fully

  Her goodness, and decided that he would

  Wed her only, if wed he ever should.

  The day of wedding came, but no one could

  Tell what woman it would be;

  For which wondered many a man

  And said, when they were in private,

  “Will not our lord yet leave his levity?

  Will he not wed? alas, alas the while!

  Why will he thus himself and us beguile?”

  But nevertheless this marquis had ordered made

  Of gems, set in gold and in azure

  Brooches and rings, for Griselda’s sake,

  And of her clothing too he took the measure

  By a maid, like to her stature,

  And also of other adornments all

  That unto such a wedding should fall.

  As midmorning of the same day

  Approached, that this wedding should be;

  And all the palace was put in order,

  Both hall and chambers, each in its degree;

  Kitchens stuffed with plenty

  There you could see, with dainty foods

  That may be found as far as extends Italy.

  This royal markis, richely arrayed,

  Lordes and ladyes in his companye,

  The whiche unto the feste were y-prayed,

  And of his retenue the bachelrye,

  With many a soun of sondry melodye,

  Un-to the village, of the which I tolde,

  In this array the righte wey han holde.

  Grisilde of this, god woot, ful innocent,

  That for hir shapen was al this array,

  To fecchen water at a welle is went,

  And cometh hoom as sone as ever she may.

  For wel she hadde herd seyd, that thilke day

  The markis sholde wedde, and, if she mighte,

  She wolde fayn han seyn som of that sighte.

  She thoghte, “I wol with othere maydens stonde,

  That been my felawes, in our dore, and see

  The markisesse, and therfor wol I fonde

  To doon at hoom, as sone as it may be,

  The labour which that longeth un-to me;

  And than I may at leyser hir biholde,

  If she this wey un-to the castel holde.”

  And as she wolde over hir threshfold goon,

  The markis cam and gan hir for to calle;

  And she set doun hir water-pot anoon

  Bisyde the threshfold, in an oxes stalle,

  And doun up-on hir knees she gan to falle,

  And with sad contenance kneleth stille

  Til she had herd what was the lordes wille.

  This thoghtful markis spak un-to this mayde

  Ful sobrely, and seyde in this manere,

  “Wher is your fader, Grisildis?” he sayde,

  And she with reverence, in humble chere,

  Answerde, “lord, he is al redy here.”

  And in she gooth with-outen lenger lette,

  And to the markis she hir fader fette.

  This royal marquis, richly dressed,

  Lords and ladies in his company,

  Who unto the feast were asked,

  And the young knights of his retinue,

  With many a sound of various melodies,

  Unto the village of which I spoke,

  In their array the straight way took.

  Griselda, full unaware

  That all this parade was prepared for her,

  Went to fetch water at the well,

  And came home as soon as ever she could.

  For well she had heard said that very day

  The marquis should wed, and if she might,

  She would gladly have seen some of that sight.

  She thought, “I will with other maidens stand,

  Who be my companions, in our door and see

  The marchioness, and therefore will I try

  To finish up at home as soon as may be

  The labor that belongs to me;

  And then I may at leisure her behold,

  If she this way unto the castle goes.”

  And as she would over her threshold go,

  The marquis came and began for her to call;

  And she set down her pail anon

  Beside the threshold, in an ox’s stall,

  And down on her knees she began to fall,

  And with earnest countenance knelt still

  Till she had heard what was the lord’s will.

  The thoughtful marquis spoke unto this maid

  Full gravely, and said in this manner:

  “Where is your father, Griselda?”

  And she with reverence, in a humble way,

  Answered, “Lord, he is here, ready to serve you.”

  And she went in without delay,

  And to the marquis her father led.

  He by the hond than took this olde man,

  And seyde thus, whan he him hadde asyde,

  “Janicula, I neither may ne can

  Lenger the plesance of my herte hyde.

  If that thou vouche-sauf, what-so bityde,

  Thy doghter wol I take, er that I wende,

  As for my wyf, un-to hir lyves ende.

&nbs
p; Thou lovest me, I woot it wel, certyn,

  And art my feithful lige man y-bore;

  And al that lyketh me, I dar wel seyn

  It lyketh thee, and specially therfore

  Tel me that poynt that I have seyd bifore,

  If that thou wolt un-to that purpos drawe,

  To take me as for thy sone-in-lawe?”

  This sodeyn cas this man astoned so,

  That reed he wex, abayst, and al quaking

  He stood; unnethes seyde he wordes mo,

  But only thus: “lord,” quod he, “my willing

  Is as ye wole, ne ayeines your lyking

  I wol no-thing; ye be my lord so dere;

  Right as yow lust governeth this matere.”

  “Yet wol I,” quod this markis softely,

  “That in thy chambre I and thou and she

  Have a collacion, and wostow why?

  For I wol axe if it hir wille be

  To be my wyf, and reule hir after me;

  And al this shal be doon in thy presence,

  I wol noght speke out of thyn audience.”

  And in the chambre whyl they were aboute

  Hir tretis, which as ye shal after here,

  The peple cam un-to the hous with-oute,

  And wondred hem in how honest manere

  And tentifly she kepte hir fader dere.

  But outerly Grisildis wondre mighte,

  For never erst ne saugh she swich a sighte.

  He by the hand then took this old man,

  And said when he had him aside,

  “Janicula, I neither may nor can

  Longer the pleasure of my heart hide.

  If you will permit, whatever may betide,

  Your daughter will I take, before I depart—

  For my wife, until our lives end.

  You love me, I know it well, certain,

  And were my faithful vassal born;

  And all that pleases me, I dare well say

  Also pleases you; and especially therefore

  Answer me that question I have said before:

  If you will

  Take me for your son-in-law.”

  This sudden turn this man bewildered so

  That red he turned, abashed and all trembling

  He stood. Scarcely said he words more,

  But only thus: “Lord,” said he, “my wish

  Is as you will; against your liking

  I wish no thing, you be my lord so dear.

  Right as you please govern this matter.”

  “Then I would like,” said this marquis softly,

  “That in your chamber you and I and she

  Have a talk, and do you know why?

  For I will ask if her will it be

  To be my wife, and govern herself after me.

  And all this shall be done in your presence—

  I will not speak out of your audience.”

  And in the chamber while they made

  Their contract, as you shall after hear,

  The people came to the house outside,

  And wondered at how attentively

  And tenderly she kept her father dear.

  But especially Griselda might have wondered,

  For never before had she seen such a sight.

  No wonder is thogh that she were astoned

  To seen so greet a gest come in that place;

  She never was to swiche gestes woned,

  For which she loked with ful pale face.

  But shortly forth this tale for to chace,

  Thise arn the wordes that the markis sayde

  To this benigne verray feithful mayde.

  “Grisilde,” he seyde, “ye shul wel understonde

  It lyketh to your fader and to me

  That I yow wedde, and eek it may so stonde,

  As I suppose, ye wol that it so be.

  But thise demandes axe I first,” quod he,

  “That, sith it shal be doon in hastif wyse,

  Wol ye assente, or elles yow avyse?

  I seye this, be ye redy with good herte

  To al my lust, and that I frely may,

  As me best thinketh, do yow laughe or smerte,

  And never ye to grucche it, night ne day?

  And eek whan I sey ‘ye,’ ne sey nat ‘nay,’

  Neither by word ne frowning contenance;

  Swer this, and here I swere our alliance.”

  Wondring upon this word, quaking for drede,

  She seyde, “lord, undigne and unworthy

  Am I to thilke honour that ye me bede;

  But as ye wol your-self, right so wol I.

  And heer I swere that never willingly

  In werk ne thoght I nil yow disobeye,

  For to be deed, though me were looth to deye.”

  “This is y-nogh, Grisilde myn!” quod he.

  And forth he gooth with a ful sobre chere

  Out at the dore, and after that cam she,

  And to the peple he seyde in this manere,

  “This is my wyf,” quod he, “that standeth here,

  Honoureth hir, and loveth hir, I preye,

  Who-so me loveth; ther is na-more to seye.”

  No wonder that she was bewildered

  To see so great a guest come in that place;

  She never was to such guests accustomed,

  And so she looked with full pale face.

  But shortly, this matter to pursue,

  These are the words that the marquis said

  To this gracious, true, faithful maid.

  “Griselda,” he said, “you shall well understand

  It pleases your father and me

  That I you wed, and also it may be the case,

  As I suppose, you will that it so be.

  But these demands I ask first,” said he,

  “That since it shall be done in haste,

  Will you assent, or else deliberate?

  I say this, be you ready with good heart

  To honor my every wish, and that I freely may,

  As I think best, make you laugh or suffer,

  And you never to complain about it, night or day?

  And also when I say ‘yes,’ you say not ‘nay,’

  Neither by word nor frowning countenance?

  Swear this, and here I swear our alliance.”

  Wondering upon this speech, trembling for dread,

  She said, “Lord, undeserving and unworthy

  Am I to that honor that you offer me;

  But as you will it yourself, right so will I,

  And here I swear that never willingly

  In deed nor thought will I disobey you,

  Even to die, though to die I loathe would be.”

  “This is enough, Griselda, mine!” said he.

  And forth he went with a full sober face

  Out at the door, and after that came she,

  And to the people he said in this manner:

  “This is my wife,” said he, “who stands here.

  Honor her and love her I pray

  Whoso me loves; there is no more to say.”

  And for that no-thing of hir olde gere

  She sholde bringe in-to his hous, he bad

  That wommen sholde dispoilen hir right there;

  Of which thise ladyes were nat right glad

  To handle hir clothes wher-in she was clad.

  But natheles this mayde bright of hewe

  Fro foot to heed they clothed han al newe.

  Hir heres han they kembd, that lay untressed

  Ful rudely, and with hir fingres smale

  A corone on hir heed they han y-dressed,

  And sette hir ful of nowches grete and smale;

  Of hir array what sholde I make a tale?

  Unnethe the peple hir knew for hir fairnesse,

  Whan she translated was in swich richesse.

  This markis hath hir spoused with a ring

  Broght for the same cause, and than hir sette

  Up-on an hors, snow-whyt and
wel ambling,

  And to his paleys, er he lenger lette,

  With joyful peple that hir ladde and mette,

  Conveyed hir, and thus the day they spende

  In revel, til the sonne gan descende.

  And shortly forth this tale for to chace,

  I seye that to this newe markisesse

  God hath swich favour sent hir of his grace,

  That it ne semed nat by lyklinesse

  That she was born and fed in rudenesse,

  As in a cote or in an oxe-stalle,

  But norished in an emperoures halle.

  To every wight she woxen is so dere

  And worshipful, that folk ther she was bore

  And from hir birthe knewe hir yeer by yere,

  Unnethe trowed they, but dorste han swore

  That to Janicle, of which I spak bifore,

  She doghter nas, for, as by conjecture,

  Hem thoughte she was another creature.

  And so that none of her old clothes

  She should bring into his house, he bade

  That women should undress her right there;

  Of which these ladies were not right glad

  To handle her clothes wherein she was clad.

  But nevertheless, this maid bright of hue

  From foot to head they clothed all new.

  Her hair they combed, that lay unbraided

  Full artless, and with their fingers small

  A crown on her head they placed,

  And adorned her full of jewels great and small.

  Of her apparel why should I make a tale?

  Scarcely the people knew her for her fairness,

  When she was transformed in such richness.

  This marquis had her married with a ring

  Brought for the same purpose, and then her set

  Upon a horse, snow-white and soft-gaited,

  And to his palace, with no further delay,

  With joyful people who her met and led,