What shall I say of Niceratus' wife,

That for such case bereft herself her life?
How true was eke to Alcibiades
His love, that for to dien rather chese,1
Than for to suffer his body unburied be?
Lo, what a wife was Alcesté?" quoth she.
"What saith Homér of good Penelope?
All Greece knoweth of her chastity.
Pardie, of Laodamía is written thus,
That when at Troy was slain Protesilaus,2
No longer would she live after his day.
The same of noble Porcia tell I may;
Withoutë Brutus couldě she not live,
To whom she did all whole her heartë give.3
The perfect wifehood of Artemisie
Honoured is throughout all Barbarie.
O Teuta queen, thy wifely chastity
To allë wives may a mirror be." 6

5

Thus plained Dorigen a day or tway, Purposing ever that she wouldë dey ;7 But natheless upon the thirdë night Home came Arviragus, the worthy knight, And asked her why that she wept so sore? And she gan weepen ever longer more. "Alas," quoth she, "that ever I was born! Thus have I said," quoth she; "thus have I sworn."

And told him all, as ye have heard before:
It needeth not rehearse it you no more.
This husband with glad cheer, in friendly wise,
Answer'd and said, as I shall you devise."
"Is there aught ellës, Dorigen, but this?"
"Nay, nay," quoth she, "God help me so, as
wis 10

This is too much, an'll it were Godde's will."
"Yea, wife," quoth he, "let sleepë what is still,
It may be well par'venture yet to-day.
Ye shall your trothë holdë, by my fay.
For, God so wisly 12 have mercy on me,
I had well lever sticked for to be,13
For very love which I to you have,
But if ye should your trothë keep and save.
Truth is the highest thing that man may keep."
But with that word he burst anon to weep,
And said; "I you forbid, on pain of death,
That never, while you lasteth life or breath,
To no wight tell ye this misáventúre ;
As I may best, I will my woe endure,
Nor make no countenance of heaviness,
That folk of you may deemë harm, or guess."
And forth he call'd a squiër and a maid.
"Go forth anon with Dorigen," he said,

1 Chose. Her husband. She begged the gods, after his death, that but three hours' converse with him might be allowed her; the request was granted; and when her dead husband, at the expiry of the time, returned to the world of shades, she bore him company.

3 The daughter of Cato of Utica, Porcia married Marcus Brutus, the friend and the assassin of Julius Cæsar; when her husband died by his own hand after the battle of Philippi, she committed suicide, it is said, by swallowing live coals-all other means having been removed by her friends.

+ Artemisia, Queen of Caria, who built to her husband, Mausolus, the splendid monument which was accounted among the wonders of the world; and who mingled her husband's ashes with her daily drink. "Barbarie" is used in the Greek sense, to designate the non-Hellenic peoples of Asia.

"And bringë her to such a place anon." They take their leave, and on their way they

gon :

16

But they not wistë why she thither went;
He would to no wight tellë his intent.
This squiër, which that hight Aurelius,
On Dorigen that was so amorous,
Of áventúrë happen'd her to meet
Amid the town, right in the quickest 14 street,
As she was bound 15 to go the way forthright
Toward the garden, there as she had hight.10
And he was to the garden-ward also;
For well he spied when she wouldë go
Out of her house, to any manner place;
But thus they met, of áventúre or grace,
And he saluted her with glad intent,
And asked of her whitherward she went.
And she answered, half as she were mad,
"Unto the garden, as my husband bade,
My trothë for to hold, alas! alas!"
Aurelius gan to wonder on this case,
And in his heart had great compassión
Of her, and of her lamentation,
And of Arviragus, the worthy knight,
That bade her hold all that she hadde hight;
So loth him was his wife should break her truth.
And in his heart he caught of it great ruth,17
Considering the best on every side,
That from his lust yet were him lever 18 abide,
Than do so high a churlish wretchedness 19
Against franchise, 20 and allë gentleness;
For which in fewë words he saidë thus ;

"Madame, say to your lord Arviragus, That since I see the greatë gentleness Of him, and eke I see well your distress, That him were lever 18 have shame (and that were ruth 17)

Than ye to me should breakë thus your truth,
I had well lever aye to suffer woe,
Than to depart 21 the love betwixt you two.
I you release, Madame, into your hond,
Quit ev'ry surëment 22 and ev'ry bond,
That ye have made to me as herebeforn,
Since thilkë time that ye were born.

Have here my truth, I shall you ne'er repreve 23
Of no behest ;24 and here I take my leave,
As of the truest and the beste wife
That ever yet I knew in all my life.
But every wife beware of her behest;
On Dorigen remember at the least.
Thus can a squiër do a gentle deed,
As well as can a knight, withoutë drede." 25

5 Queen of Illyria, who, after her husband's death, made war on and was conquered by the Romans, B.C. 228. 6 At this point, in some manuscripts, occur the following two lines:

"The same thing I say of Bilia,
Of Rhodogone and of Valeria."

She thanked him upon her kneës bare,
And home unto her husband is she fare,1
And told him all, as ye have heardë said;
And, trustë me, he was so well apaid,"
That it were impossible me to write.
Why should I longer of this case indite?
Arviragus and Dorigen his wife

In sov'reign blissë ledde forth their life;
Ne'er after was there anger them between ;
He cherish'd her as though she were a queen,
And she was to him true for evermore;
Of these two folk ye get of me no more.
Aurelius, that his cost had all forlorn,3
Cursed the time that ever he was born.
"Alas!" quoth he, "alas that I behight
Of pured gold a thousand pound of weight
To this philosopher! how shall I do?
I see no more, but that I am fordo.6
Mine heritage must I needës sell,
And be a beggar; here I will not dwell,
And shamen all my kindred in this place,
But I of him may gettë better grace.
But natheless I will of him assay
At certain dayës year by year to pay,
And thank him of his greatë courtesy.
My trothë will I keep, I will not lie."
With heartë sore he went unto his coffer,
And broughtë gold unto this philosopher,
The value of five hundred pound, I guess,
And him beseeched, of his gentleness,
To grant him dayës of 8 the remenant;
And said; "Master, I dare well make avaunt,
I failed never of my truth as yet.
For sickerly my debtë shall be quit
Towardes you, how so that e'er I fare
To go a-begging in my kirtle bare:
But would ye vouchësafe, upon surety,
Two year, or three, for to respitë me,
Then were I well, for elles must I sell
Mine heritage; there is no more to tell."

This philosopher soberly answer'd, And saide thus, when he these wordës heard; "Have I not holden covenant to thee?" "Yes, certes, well and truely," quoth he. "Hast thou not had thy lady as thee liked?" "No, no," quoth he, and sorrowfully siked.10 'What was the cause? tell me if thou can." Aurelius his tale anon began,

And told him all as ye have heard before,
It needeth not to you rehearse it more.
He said, "Arviragus of gentleness
Had lever 11 die in sorrow and distress,
Than that his wife were of her trothë false."
The sorrow of Dorigen he told him als',12
How loth her was to be a wicked wife,

And that she lever had lost that day her life;
And that her troth she swore through innocence;
She ne'er erst 13 had heard speak of apparence; 14
That made me have of her so great pitý,
And right as freely as he sent her to me,

As freely sent I her to him again:

This is all and some, there is no more to sayn."
The philosopher answer'd; "Leve 15 brother,
Evereach of you did gently to the other;
Thou art a squiër, and he is a knight,
But God forbiddë, for his blissful might,
But if a clerk could do a gentle deed

As well as any of you, it is no drede.16
Sir, I release thee thy thousand pound,
As thou right now were crept out of the ground,
Nor ever ere now haddest knowen me.

For, Sir, I will not take a penny of thee
For all my craft, nor naught for my travail ; 17
Thou hast y-payed well for my vitáille;
It is enough; and farewell, have good day.”
And took his horse, and forth he went his way.
Lordings, this question would I askë now,
Which was the mostë free,18 as thinketh you?
Now tellë me, ere that ye farther wend.

I can 19 no more, my tale is at an end.

which it was the fashion to propose for debate in the mediæval "courts of love." 19 Know, can tell.

20 The authenticity of the prologue is questionable. It is found in one manuscript only; other manuscripts give other prologues, more plainly not Chaucer's than this; and some manuscripts have merely a colophon to the effect that "Here endeth the Franklin's Tale and beginneth the Physician's Tale without a prologue." The Tale itself is the well-known story of Virginia, with several departures from the text of Livy. Chaucer probably followed the "Romance of the Rose" and Gower's "Confessio Amantis," in both of which the story is found.

21 Livy, Book iii. cap. 44, et seqq.

Thus can I form and paint a creatúre,
When that me list; who can me counterfeit ?
Pygmalion? not though he aye forge and beat,
Or grave, or paintë: for I dare well sayn,
Apelles, Zeuxis, shouldë work in vain,
Either to grave, or paint, or forge, or beat,
If they presumed me to counterfeit.
For he that is the former principal,
Hath made me his vicar-general

To form and painten earthly creatúrës
Right as me list, and all thing in my cure1 is,
Under the moonë, that may wane and wax.
And for my work right nothing will I ax ;2
My lord and I be full of one accord.

3

I made her to the worship of my lord;
So do I all mine other creatures,

What colour that they have, or what figures."
Thus seemeth me that Nature wouldë say.
This maiden was of age twelve year
tway,

In which that Nature hadde such delight.
For right as she can paint a lily white,
And red a rosë, right with such paintúre
She painted had this noble creatúre,
Ere she was born, upon her limbës free,
Where as by right such colours shouldë be:
And Phoebus dyed had her tresses great,
Like to the streamës of his burned heat.
And if that excellent was her beauty,
A thousand-fold more virtuous was she.
In her there lacked no conditión,
That is to praise, as by discretion.

and

As well in ghost 5 as body chaste was she:
For which she flower'd in virginitý,
With all humility and abstinence,
With allë temperance and patience,
With measure 6 eke of bearing and array.
Discreet she was in answering alway,
Though she were wise as Pallas, dare I sayn;
Her faconde eke full womanly and plain,
No counterfeited termës hadde she
To seeme wise; but after her degree
She spake, and all her wordës more and less
Sounding in virtue and in gentleness.
Shamefast she was in maiden's shamefastness,
Constant in heart, and ever in business 8
To drive her out of idle sluggardy:
Bacchus had of her mouth right no mast'rý.
For wine and slothë do Venús increase,
As men in fire will casten oil and grease.
And of her owen virtue, unconstrain'd,
She had herself full often sick y-feign'd,
For that she wouldë flee the company,
Where likely was to treaten of follý,
As is at feasts, at revels, and at dances,
That be occasións of dalliances.
Such thingës make children for to be
Too soone ripe and bold, as men may see,
Which is full perilous, and hath been yore ;10

For all too soonë may she learnë lore Of boldeness, when that she is a wife. And ye mistresses, 11 in your oldë life That lordës' daughters have in governance, Take not of my wordës displeasánce: Thinke that ye be set in governings Of lordës' daughters only for two things; Either for ye have kept your honesty, Or else for ye have fallen in frailty And knowë well enough the oldë dance, And have forsaken fully such meschance 12 For evermore; therefore, for Christë's sake, To teach them virtue look that ye not slake.13 A thief of venison, that hath forlaft 14 His lik'rousness, 15 and all his olde craft, Can keep a forest best of any man; Now keep them well, for if ye will ye can. Look well, that ye unto no vice assent, Lest ye be damned for your wick' 16 intent, For whoso doth, a traitor is certain; And take keep 17 of that I shall you sayn ; Of allë treason, sov'reign pestilence Is when a wight betrayeth innocence. Ye fathers, and ye mothers eke also, Though ye have children, be it one or mo', Yours is the charge of all their surveyance,18 While that they be under your governance. Beware, that by example of your living, Or by your negligence in chastising, That they not perish: for I dare well say, If that they do, ye shall it dear abeye.19 Under a shepherd soft and negligent The wolf hath many a sheep and lamb to-rent. Suffice this example now as here, For I must turn again to my mattére.

This maid, of which I tell my tale express,
She kept herself, her needed no mistréss;
For in her living maidens mightë read,
As in a book, ev'ry good word and deed
That longeth to a maiden virtuous;
She was so prudent and so bounteous.
For which the fame out sprang on every side
Both of her beauty and her bounté 20 wide:
That through the land they praised her each one
That loved virtue, save envý alone,
That sorry is of other manne's weal,
And glad is of his sorrow and unheal. 21.
The Doctor maketh this descriptioún. 22
This maiden on a day went in the town
Toward a temple, with her mother dear,
As is of youngë maidens the mannére.
Now was there then a justice in that town,
That governor was of that regioún:
And so befell, this judge his eyen cast
Upon this maid, avising 23 her full fast,

As she came forth by where this judge stood;
Anon his heartë changed and his mood,
So was he caught with beauty of this maid
And to himself full privily he said,

"This maiden shall be mine for any man."
Anon the fiend into his heartë ran,

And taught him suddenly, that he by sleight
This maiden to his purpose winnë might.
For certes, by no force, nor by no meed,1
Him thought he was not able for to speed;
For she was strong of friendës, and eke she
Confirmed was in such sov'reign bounté,
That well he wist he might her never win,
As for to make her with her body sin.
For which, with great deliberatioún,
He sent after a clerk 2 was in the town,
The which he knew for subtle and for bold.
This judge unto this clerk his talë told
In secret wise, and made him to assure
He shouldë tell it to no creatúre,
And if he did, he shouldë lose his head.
And when assented was this cursed rede,3
Glad was the judge, and made him greatë cheer,
And gave him giftës precious and dear.

When shapen was all their conspiracy
From point to point, how that his lechery
Performed shouldë be full subtilly,
As ye shall hear it after openly,

Home went this clerk, that hightë Claudius.
This false judge, that hightë Appius,—
(So was his namë, for it is no fable,
But knowen for a storial thing notáble;
The sentence of it sooth7 is out of doubt);—
This false judge went now fast about
To hasten his delight all that he may.
And so befell, soon after on a day,
This false judge, as telleth us the story,
As he was wont, sat in his consistóry,
And gave his doomës 8 upon sundry case';
This false clerk came forth a full great pace,
And saidë; "Lord, if that it be your will,
As do me right upon this piteous bill,10
In which I plain upon Virginius.
And if that he will say it is not thus,
I will it prove, and findë good witness,
That sooth is what my bille will express."
The judge answér'd, “Of this, in his absence,
I may not give definitive sentence.

Let do 11 him call, and I will gladly hear;
Thou shalt have allë right, and no wrong here."
Virginius came to weet 12 the judge's will,
And right anon was read this cursed bill;
The sentence of it was as ye shall hear :
"To you, my lord, Sir Appius so dear,
Sheweth your poorë servant Claudius,
How that a knight called Virginius,
Against the law, against all equity,
Holdeth, express against the will of me,
My servant, which that is my thrall 13 by right,
Which from my house was stolen on a night,
While that she was full young; I will it preve 14
1 Bribe, reward.

2 The various readings of this word are "churl," or "cherl," in the best manuscripts; "client" in the common editions; and "clerk," supported by two important manuscripts. "Client" would perhaps be the best reading, if it were not awkward for the metre; but between "churl" and "clerk" there can be little doubt that Mr Wright chose wisely when he preferred the second. 3 Counsel, plot.

4 Arranged.

6 Discourse, account.

5 Historical, authentic.

7 True.

15

By witness, lord, so that it you not grieve;
She is his daughter not, what so he say.
Wherefore to you, my lord the judge, I pray,
Yield me my thrall, if that it be your will."
Lo, this was all the sentence of the bill.
Virginius gan upon the clerk behold;
But hastily, ere he his tale told,

And would have proved it, as should a knight,
And eke by witnessing of many a wight,
That all was false that said his adversary,
This cursed 16 judgë would no longer tarry,
Nor hear a word more of Virginius,
But gave his judgement, and saidë thus:
"I deem 17 anon this clerk his servant have;
Thou shalt no longer in thy house her save.
Go, bring her forth, and put her in our ward;
The clerk shall have his thrall: thus I award."
And when this worthy knight, Virginius,,
Through sentence of this justice Appius,
Mustë by force his dearë daughter give
Unto the judge, in lechery to live,

He went him home, and sat him in his hall,
And let anon his dearë daughter call;
And with a facë dead as ashes cold
Upon her humble face he gan behold,
With father's pity sticking 18 through his heart,
All 19 would he from his purpose not convert.20
"Daughter," quoth he, "Virginia by name,
There be two wayës, either death or shame,
That thou must suffer,-alas that I was bore!
For never thou deservedest wherefore
To dien with a sword or with a knife.
O dearë daughter, ender of my life,
Whom I have foster'd up with such pleasance
That thou were ne'er out of my remembrance;
O daughter, which that art my lastë woe,
And in this life my lastë joy also,

O gem of chastity, in patience

Take thou thy death, for this is my sentence:
For love and not for hate thou must be dead;
My piteous hand must smiten off thine head.
Alas, that ever Appius thee say! 21
Thus hath he falsely judged thee to-day."
And told her all the case, as ye before
Have heard; it needeth not to tell it more.

"O mercy, dearë father," quoth the maid. And with that word she both her armës laid About his neck, as she was wont to do, (The teares burst out of her eyen two), And said, "O goodë father, shall I die? Is there no grace? is there no remedy?" "No, certes, dearë daughter mine," quoth he. "Then give me leisure, father mine," quoth she,

"My death for to complain 22 a little space: For, pardie, Jephthah gave his daughter grace For to complain, ere he her slew, alas! 23