And when again came Phoebus home, the lord,
This crow sang loud "Cuckoo! Cuckoo! Cuckoo!"
"What, bird?" asked Phoebus, "What song now sing you?
Were you not wont so merrily to sing
That in my heart it was a joyful thing
To hear your voice? Alas! What song is this?"
"By God," said he, "I do not sing amiss;
Phoebus," said he, "for all your worthiness,
For all your beauty and your nobleness,
For all your song and all your minstrelsy,
For all your watching, bleared is your bright eye
By one of small repute, as well is known,
Not worth, when I compare it with your own,
The value of a gnat, as I may thrive.
For on your bed your wife I saw him swive."
What will you more? The crow thereafter told,
In sober fashion, giving witness bold,
How that his wife had done her lechery
To his great shame and with great villainy;
Repeating that he'd seen it with his eyes.
Then Phoebus turned away in sad surprise;
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He thought his wretched heart would break for woe;
His bow he bent and set there an arrow,
And in his angry mood his wife did slay.
This the result; there is no more to say;
For grief of which he ceased his minstrelsy,
Broke harp and lute, gittern and psaltery;
And, too, he broke his arrows and his bow.
And after that he spoke thus to the crow.
"Traitor," cried he, "with tongue of scorpion,
You have brought me to ruin, treacherous one!
Alas, that I was born! Why died I not?
O my dear wife, jewel of joy, God wot,
Who were to me so trusty and so true,
Now you lie dead, with face all pale of hue,
And you were guiltless, I dare swear to this!
O hasty hand, to do so foul amiss!
O stupid brain, O anger all reckless,
That unadvisedly struck the guiltless!
O ill distrust that jealousy had sown!
Where were your thought and your discretion flown?
O every man, beware of hastiness,
Do not believe without a strong witness;
Strike not too soon, before you reason why,
And be advised full well and soberly
Ere you do any execution thus
In your wild anger when it is jealous.
Alas! A thousand folk has hasty ire
Ruined, and left them bleeding in the mire.
Alas! I'll slay myself forthwith for grief!"
And to the crow he said, "O you false thief!
I will anon requite you that false tale!
You sang but lately like a nightingale;
Now, you false thief, your songs are over and done,
And you'll all those white feathers lose, each one,
Nor ever in your life more shall you speak.
Thus men on traitors shall their justice wreak;
You and your offspring ever shall be black,
Nor evermore sweet noises shall you make,
But you shall cry in tempest and in rain
In token that through you my wife was slain."
And on the crow he leaped, and that anon,
And plucked out his white feathers, every one,
And made him black, and stilled for evermore
His song and speech, and flung him out the door
Unto the devil, where I leave this jack;
And for this reason, now all crows are black.
Masters, by this example, I do pray
You will beware and heed what I shall say:
Never tell any man, through all your life,
How that another man has humped his wife;
He'll hate you mortally, and that's certain.
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Dan Solomon, as these wise clerks explain,
Teaches a man to keep his tongue from all;
But, as I said, I am not textual.
Nevertheless, thus taught me my good dame:
"My son, think of the crow, in high God's name;
My son, keep your tongue still, and keep your friend.
A wicked tongue is worse than any fiend.
My son, from devils men themselves may bless;
My son, high God, of His endless goodness,
Walled up the tongue with teeth and lips and cheeks
That man should speak advisedly when he speaks.
My son, full oftentimes, for too much speech,
Has many a man been killed, as clerics teach;
But, speaking little and advisedly,
Is no man harmed, to put it generally.
My son, your foolish tongue you should restrain
At all times, save those when your soul is fain
To speak of God, in honour and in prayer.
The first of virtues, son, if you'll but hear,
Is to restrain and to guard well your tongue-
Thus teach the children while they yet are young-
My son, of too much speaking, ill advised,
Where less had been enough and had sufficed,
Much harm may come; thus was I told and taught.
In fluent speaking evil wants for naught.
Know you of where a rash tongue has well served?
Just as a sword has cut deep and has carved
A many an arm in two, dear son, just so
A tongue can cut a friendship, well I know.
A gossip is to God abominable.
Read Solomon, so wise and honourable,
Or David's Psalms, what Seneca has said.
My son, speak not, but merely bow your head.
Dissemble like one deaf, if you but hear
A chatterer speak what's dangerous in your ear.
The Fleming says, and learn it, for it's best,
That little prattle gives us all much rest.
My son, if you no wicked word have said,
To be betrayed you need not ever dread;
But he that has missaid, I dare explain,
He may not aye recall his words again.
That which is said, is said, and goes, in truth,
Though he repent, and be he lief or loath.
A man's the slave of him to whom he's told
A tale to which he can no longer hold.
My son, beware and be not author new
Of tidings, whether they be false or true.
Where'er you come, among the high or low,
Guard well your tongue, and think upon the crow."
HERE IS ENDED THE MANCIPLE'S TALE OF THE CROW
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THE PARSON'S PROLOGUE
What time the manciple his tale had ended,
The sun down from the south line had descended
So low that he was not, unto my sight,
Degrees full nine and twenty yet in height.
Four of the clock it was then, as I guess:
Four feet eleven, little more or less,
My shadow was extended then and there,
A length as if the shadow parted were
In six-foot equal parts, as I have shown.
Therewith the moon's high exaltation known,
I mean the sign of Libra, did ascend
As we were entering a village-end;
Whereat our host, since wont to guide was he,
As in this case, our jolly company,
Said in this wise: "Now, masters, every one,
We lack no tales except a single one.
My judgment is fulfilled and my decree,
I think that we have heard from each degree.
Almost fulfilled is all my ordinance;
I pray to God to give him right good chance
Who tells to us this story pleasantly.
Sir priest," he asked, "can you a vicar be?
Are you a parson? Tell truth, by your fay!
Be what you will, break not our jolly play;
For every man, save you, has told his tale,
Unbuckle, show us what is in your mail;
For truly, I think, judging by your cheer,
You should knit up a mighty matter here.
Tell us a fable now, by Cock's dear bones!"
This parson then replied to him at once:
"You'll get no foolish fable told by me;
For Paul, when writing unto Timothy,
Reproves all those that veer from truthfulness
And tell false fables and such wretchedness.
Why should I sow chaff out of my own fist
When I may sow good wheat, if I but list?
But if, I say, you something wish to hear
In which the moral virtues will appear,
And if you now will give me audience,
I will right gladly, in Christ's reverence,
Give you such lawful pleasure as I can.
But trust me, since I am a Southern man,
I can't romance with 'rum, ram, ruff', by letter,
And, God knows, rhyme I hold but little better;
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But if you wish the truth made plain and straight,
A pleasant tale in prose I will relate
To weave our feast together at the end.
May Jesus, of His grace, the wit me send
To show you, as we journey this last stage,
The way of that most perfect pilgrimage
To heavenly Jerusalem on high.
And if you will vouchsafe, anon shall I
Begin my tale, concerning which, I pray,
Choose what you will, I can no better say.
Yet this my meditation is, I own,
Perhaps not free from errors to be shown
By clerks, since I am not a learned man;
I do but grasp the meaning as I can.
Therefore, I do protest, I shall prepare
To take what comes, and all correction bear."
When he had spoken thus, we all agreed,
For, as it seemed to us, 'twas right indeed
To end with something virtuous in its sense,
And so to give him time and audience.
We bade our host that he to him convey
The wish of all that he begin straightway.
Our host, he had the very words for all.
"Sir priest," said he, "may good to you befall!
Say what you wish, and we will gladly hear."
And after that he added, for his ear:
"Tell us," he said, "your meditation grown,
But pray make haste, the sun will soon be down;
Be fruitful, tell us in a little space,
And to do well God send to you His grace!"
Explicit prohemium
THE PARSON'S TALE
Jer. 6. State super vias et videte et interrogate de viis antiquis, que sit via bona; et ambulate in ea, et inuenietis
refrigerium animabus vestris,
Our sweet Lord God of Heaven, Who will destroy no man, but would have all come unto the knowledge of
Him and to the blessed life that is everlasting, admonishes us by the Prophet Jeremiah, who says thus: "Stand
ye in the ways, and see, and ask for the old paths (that is to say, the old wisdom) where is the good way, and
walk therein, and ye shall find rest for your souls," etc. Many are the spiritual ways that lead folk unto Our
Lord Jesus Christ and to the Kingdom of Glory. Of which ways there is a right noble way and a proper one,
which will not fail either man or woman who through sin has gone astray from the right way to the Heavenly
Jerusalem; and this way is called penitence, as to which man should gladly hear and inquire with all his heart,
in order that he may learn what penitence is, and why it is called penitence, and in how many ways penitence
functions, and how many kinds of penitence there are, and what things appertain and are necessary to
penitence, and what things hinder it.
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Saint Ambrose says that "penitence is the mourning of man for the sin that he has done, and the resolve to do
no more anything for which he ought to mourn." And another doctor says: "Penitence is the lamenting of
man, who sorrows for his sin and punishes himself because he has done amiss." Penitence, under certain
circumstances, is the true repentance of a man that goes in sorrow and other pain for his misdeeds. And that
he shall be truly penitent, he shall first regret the sins that he has done, and steadfastly purpose in his heart to
make oral confession, and to do penance, and nevermore to do anything for which he ought to feel regret or
to mourn, and to continue on good works; or else his repentance will avail him nothing. For, as says Saint
Isidore: "He is a mocker and a liar and no true penitent who does again a thing for which he ought to repent."
Weeping, when not accompanied by a refusal to sin, shall not avail. But, nevertheless, men should hope that
every time a man falls, be it never so often, he may arise through penitence, if he have grace; but certainly
there is great doubt of this. For, as Saint Gregory says: "With difficulty shall he arise out of sin who is
burdened with the burden of evil habit." And therefore repentant folk, who keep from sin and abandon sin ere
sin abandon them, Holy Church holds them to be sure of their salvation. And he that sins and verily repents in
his last moments, Holy Church yet hopes for his salvation, what of the great mercy of Our Lord Jesus Christ,
because of his repentance; but take you the certain way.
And now, since I have declared unto you what penitence is, now shall you understand that there are three
deeds required by penitence. The first deed is that a man be baptized after he has sinned. Saint Augustine
says: "Save he be repentant for his former sinful life, he shall not begin to lead the new clean life." For truly,
if he be baptized without repentance for his old offence, he receives the sign of baptism but not the grace nor
the remission of his sins, until he have true repentance. Another defect is this, that men do deadly sin after
they have received baptism. The third defect is that men fall into venial sins after their baptism, and from day
to day. Thereof Saint Augustine says that "penitence of good and humble folk is the penitence of every day."
The kinds of penitence are three. One of them is public, another is general, and the third is private. That form
of penitence which is public is of two kinds: as to be expelled from Holy Church in Lent, for the slaughter of
children and such-like things. Another is, when a man has sinned openly, of which sin the shame is openly
spoken of in the community; and then Holy Church, by judgment rendered, constrains him to do open
penance. Common or general penitence is when priests enjoin men collectively in certain cases, as,
peradventure, to go naked on pilgrimages, or barefoot. Private penitence is that which men do continually for
their sins, whereof we confess privately and receive a private penance.
Now shall you understand what is necessary to a true and perfect penitence. And this stands upon three
things: contrition of heart, confession by word of mouth, and restitution. As to which Saint John Chrysostom
says: "Penitence constrains a man to accept cheerfully every pain that is put upon him, with contrition of
heart and oral confession, with restitution; and in doing of all acts of humility." And this is a fruitful
penitence for three things wherein we anger Our Lord Jesus Christ; that is to say, by delight in thinking, by
recklessness in speaking, and by wicked sinful works. And over against these wicked offences is penitence,
which may be likened unto a tree.
The root of this tree is contrition, which hides itself away in the heart of him who is truly repentant, just as
the root of another tree hides within the earth. From the root contrition springs a trunk that bears branches and
leaves of confession and the fruit of penance, As to which Christ says in His gospel: "Bring forth therefore
fruits meet for repentance." For by this fruit may men know this tree, and not by the root that is hidden in the
heart of man, nor by the branches, nor by the leaves of confession. And therefore Our Lord Jesus Christ says
thus: "By their fruits ye shall know them." From this root, too, springs a seed of grace, the which seed is the
mother of security, and this seed is eager and hot. The grace of this seed springs from God, through
remembrance of the day of doom and the pains of Hell. Of this matter says Solomon: "Fear the Lord, and
depart from evil." The heat of this seed is the love of God and the desiring of the joy everlasting. This heat
draws the heart of man unto God and causes him to hate his sin. For truly there is nothing that tastes so well
to a child as the milk of its nurse, nor is there anything more abhorrent to it than this same milk when it is
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mingled with other food. just so, to the sinful man who loves his sin, it seems that it is sweeter than anything
else; but from the time that he begins to love devoutly Our Lord Jesus Christ, and desires the life everlasting,
there is to him nothing more abominable. For truly the law of God is the love of God; whereof David the
prophet says: "Ye that love the Lord, hate evil." He that loves God keeps His law and His word. The Prophet
Daniel saw this tree in spirit following upon the vision of King Nebuchadnezzar, when he counselled him to
do penance. Penance is the tree of life to those who receive it, and he that holds himself in true penitence is
blessed, according to the opinion of Solomon.
In this penitence or contrition man shall understand four things, that is to say, what contrition is, and what the
causes are that move a man to contrition, and how he should be contrite, and what contrition avails the soul.
Then it is thus: that contrition is the real sorrow that a man receives within his heart for his sins, with firm
purpose to confess them and to do penance and nevermore to do sin. And this sorrow shall be in this manner,
as says Saint Bernard: "It shall be heavy and grievous and sharp and poignant in the heart." First, because
man has offended his Lord and his Creator; and more sharp and poignant because he has offended his
Heavenly Father; and yet more sharp and poignant because he has angered and offended Him Who redeemed
him, Who with His precious blood has delivered us from the bonds of sin and from the cruelty of the Devil
and from the pains of Hell.
The causes that ought to move a man to contrition are six. First, a man should remember his sins, yet see to it
that this same remembrance be not to him in any wise a delight, but only great shame and sorrow for his
guilt. For Job says: that sinful men do things that ought to be confessed. And therefore Hezekiah says: "I will
remember all the years of my life, in bitterness of heart." And God says in the Apocalypse: "Remember from
whence thou art fallen." For before that time when first you sinned, you were the children of God and
members of the Kingdom of God; but because of your sin you are become slavish and vile, and the children
of the Fiend, hated of the angels, the slander of Holy Church, and food of the false serpent. You are perpetual
fuel for the fire of Hell. And yet more vile and abominable, for you offend often and often, like the dog that
returns to his vomit. And you are even yet more vile, for your long continuation in sin and your sinful habits,
for which you are as filthy in your sin as a beast in its dung. Such thoughts cause a may, to take shame to
himself for his sinning, and not delight, as God says by the Prophet Ezekiel: "Thou shalt remember thy ways
and be ashamed." Truly, sins are the ways that lead folk unto Hell.
The second reason why a man ought to have contempt for sin is this: that, as Saint Peter says, "He that
sinneth is the slave of sin." And sin puts a man into deep thraldom. And thereupon the Prophet Ezekiel says:
"I went sorrowfully, in abhorrence of myself." And truly, well ought a man to abhor sin and to release
himself from that thraldom and degradation. And see what Seneca says about this matter. He says thus:
"Though I knew that neither God nor man should ever be cognizant of it, yet would I disdain to commit a
sin." And the same Seneca also says: "I am born to greater things than to be thrall to my body, or than to
make of my body a thrall." Nor a viler thrall may man or woman make of his or her body than by giving that
body over to sin. And were it the lowest churl, or the lowest woman, that lives, and the least worth, yet is he
or she then more vile and more in servitude. Ever from the higher degree than man falls, the more is he
enthralled, and by so much the more to God and to the world is he vile and abominable. O good God! Well
ought a man to have disdain of sin; since, because of sin, whereas he was once free, now is he in bondage.
And thereupon Saint Augustine says: "If thou have disdain for thy servant, if he offend or sin, have thou then
disdain that thou shouldest do any sin." Have regard of your worth, that you be not foul unto yourself. Alas!
Well ought they then to disdain to be servants and thralls to sin, and to be sorely ashamed of themselves,
when God of His endless goodness has set them in high place, or given them understanding, bodily strength,
health, beauty, prosperity, and redeemed them with His heart's blood, who now so unnaturally, in face of His
nobleness, requite Him so vilely as to slaughter their own souls. O good God! You women, who are of so
great beauty, remember the proverb of Solomon, who says: "A fair woman who is the fool of her body is like
a gold ring in the snout of a sow." For just as a sow roots deep into every ordure, so does she root her beauty
into the stinking filth of sin.
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The third cause that ought to move a man to contrition is fear of the day of doom and of the horrible pains of
Hell. For as Saint Jerome says: "Every time that I remember the day of doom I quake; for when I eat or drink
or do whatever thing, ever it seems to me that the trump sounds in my ear, bidding the dead arise and come to
judgment." O good God! Greatly ought a man to fear such a judgment, "Where we shall be all," as Saint Paul
says, "before the throne of Our Lord Jesus Christ." And there we shall compose a general congregation,
whence no man shall absent himself. For truly there shall avail neither essoin nor excuse. And not only shall
our faults be judged, but all our deeds shall openly be made known. As Saint Bernard says: "There shall no
pleading avail, and no trickery; we shall give reckoning for every idle word." There shall we have a judge
that cannot be corrupted or deceived. And why? Because, in truth, all our thoughts are known unto Him; nor
for prayer nor for bribing shall He be corrupted. And therefore says Solomon: "The wrath of God will spare
no one, either for prayer or gifts." Therefore, at the day of doom, there shall be no hope of escape. Wherefore,
as says Saint Anselm: "Great anguish shall all sinful folk have at that time; there shall the stern and angry
judge sit above, and under Him the horrible pit of Hell, open to destroy him who must acknowledge his sins,
which sins shall be openly showed before God and before all creatures. And on the left side more devils than
any heart can think, to harry and to draw the sinful souls to the punishment of Hell. And within the hearts of
folk shall be the tearing of conscience and without shall be the world all burning. Whither then shall the
wretched sinful man flee to hide himself? Certainly he shall not hide; he must come forth and show himself."
For truly, as says Saint Jerome: "The earth shall cast him forth and the sea also; aye, and the air, which shall
be filled with thunders and with lightnings." Now, indeed, whoso well thinks of these things, I suppose that
his sin shall not be a delight within him, but a great sorrow, for fear of the pain of Hell. And therefore said
Job to God: "Let me take comfort a little, before I go whence I shall not return, even to the land of darkness
and the shadow of death; a land of darkness as darkness itself: and of the shadow of death, without any order,
and where the light is as darkness." Lo, here may it be seen that Job prayed for respite to weep and to bewail
his trespass; for indeed one day of respite is better than all the treasure of the world. And for as much as man
may acquit himself before God by penitence in this world, and not by treasure, therefore should he pray to
God to grant him respite for a while to weep and to bewail his sins. For truly, all the sorrow that a man might
feel from the beginning of the world is but a little thing in comparison with the sorrows of Hell. As to the
reason why Job called Hell the "land of darkness," it is to be understood that he called it "land" or "earth"
because it is stable and never shall fail; "dark" because he that is in Hell lacks the materials for light. For truly
the dark light that shall come out of the fire that burns for ever shall turn him all to pain who is in Hell; for it
shall show unto him the horrible devils that torment him. "Covered with the darkness of death:" that is to say,
that he who is in Hell shall lack the sight of God; for truly, to see God is life everlasting. "The darkness of
death" is the sin which the wretched man has done, which hinders his seeing the face of God; just as does a
cloud that comes between us and the sun. "Land of ill ease:" because there are three kinds of pains against
