1. The Canon’s Yeoman’s Prologue
1
The Prologue of the Canon’s Yeoman’s Tale
2
When ended was the life of Saint Cecilia,
3
Ere we had ridden fully five miles further,
4
At Boughton-under-Blean rode up a hack
5
With a man clothed in black upon its back,
6
Who underneath had on a white surplice.
7
His hack, a dappled grey, all sweating is,
8
Sweating so hard it is a sight to see;
9
It looks as if he has galloped miles three.
10
Also the horse his yeoman rode upon
11
Sweated so, it could barely trot on.
12
About the saddle straps the foam stood high;
13
With foam it was all flecked like a magpie.
14
A doubled wallet on its crupper lay;
15
It seemed that he carried slight array,
16
All light, for summer, rode this worthy man.
17
And in my mind to wonder I began
18
What he might be, until I understood,
19
Since his cloak was sewn onto his hood,
20
After I’d reflected a while, that he
21
A regular canon of the church must be.
22
His hat hung at his back down by a lace,
23
For he had ridden at a lively pace:
24
He had been galloping as he were mad.
25
And a dock-leaf under his hood he had,
26
For sweat, and to keep his head from heat.
27
It was a joy to see him sweat so neat!
28
His forehead shed drops like a distillery,
29
A still for plantain-juice and pellitory.
30
And when he arrived, he cried full loudly:
31
‘God save,’ quoth he, ‘this jolly company!
32
Fast I have ridden,’ quoth he, for your sake,
33
Because I wished you folk to overtake,
34
And ride with all this merry company.’
35
His yeoman too was full of courtesy,
36
And said: ‘Sires, but now at morning-tide,
37
Out of your hostelry I saw you ride,
38
And made aware my lord and sovereign,
39
Who was eager your company to gain
40
For his amusement; he loves dalliance.’
41
‘Friend, for your trouble God give you good chance!’
42
Then said our Host: ‘– for, certain, it would seem
43
Your lord is wise, wisdom I would it deem.
44
He is full jocund also, I dare say!
45
Can he tell a merry tale or two, in play,
46
To gladden all this company, say I?’
47
‘Who, sir: my lord? Yes, yes, without a lie!
48
He knows of mirth, and also jollity,
49
More than enough; also, sire, trust me,
50
If you but knew him half so well as I,
51
You’d be amazed how well he can vie
52
With all, in work, and that in sundry wise.
53
He has dealt with many an enterprise,
54
That would be hard for any that is here
55
To bring about, unless he were to steer.
56
As homely as he may look among you,
57
It would benefit you, that him you knew.
58
You would not forego his acquaintance
59
For all your goods, I’d set in the balance
60
All that I have in my possession!
61
He is a man of great discretion;
62
I advise you, he’s an excellent man.’
63
‘Well,’ quoth our Host, ‘I pray you, tell on,
64
Is he a cleric, or no? Say what he is.’
65
‘Nay, to be greater than a clerk is this,’
66
Said the Yeoman, ‘in a few words or so,
67
Host, of his craft something I would show.
68
I say, my lord such subtle skills has he –
69
Yet all his craft you cannot learn from me
70
Although I help him somewhat in its working –
71
That all this ground over which we’re riding,
72
Until we come to Canterbury town,
73
He could turn it all clean upside-down,
74
And pave it all with silver and with gold.’
75
And when the Yeoman had this story told
76
To our Host, he cried, ‘Benedicitee!
77
It then seems wondrous marvellous to me –
78
Since your lord is of such high sapience,
79
And all men should hold him in reverence –
80
That his own dignity he treats so light.
81
His cassock now is scarcely worth a mite,
82
In truth, I’d say, to him, God bless my soul!
83
It’s dirty through and through, and torn also.
84
Why is your lord so slovenly, I pray?
85
– Yet has the means to buy better any day,
86
If his deeds accord with all your speech.
87
Tell me that, for so I do you beseech!’
88
Quoth the Yeoman, ‘Why go asking me?
89
God help me so, but he’ll not prosper thee!
90
– I can’t acknowledge anything I say,
91
And therefore keep the secret now, I pray –
92
But he’s too wise, so I believe, in truth.
93
Whatever is in excess, will never prove
94
Useful, as the clerics say; it’s a vice.
95
So that in this I hold him foolish twice;
96
For when a man has far too great a wit,
97
Often it happens he misuses it.
98
So does my lord: and it grieves me sore.
99
God amend it! I can explain no more.’
100
‘No matter, my good Yeoman’ quoth our Host;
101
But since of the cunning of your lord you boast,
102
Say what he does, I pray you heartily,
103
Since he works so well and skilfully.
104
Where do you dwell, if told such may be?’
105
‘In the suburbs of a town,’ quoth he,
106
‘Lurking in holes and corners, alleys blind,
107
Where robbers, and thieves of every kind,
108
Fearful, keep their private residence,
109
As those do who daren’t show their presence.
110
So do we fare, if I must tell the truth.’
111
‘Now,’ quoth our Host, ‘let me ask of you.
112
Why are you so discoloured round the face?’
113
‘Peter!’ quoth he, ‘God shows it little grace,
114
I am forced so oft the flames to blow
115
That is has altered my whole colour so.
116
In the mirror I’m hardly wont to pry,
117
But labour hard: and alchemy I try.
118
We blunder ever, poring o’er the fire,
119
Yet for all that, we fail of our desire,
120
For we never reach the right conclusion.
121
On many folk we practice pure illusion,
122
And borrow gold – be it a pound or two,
123
Or ten, or twelve, more if we’re able to –
124
And make them think, in whatever way,
125
That from a pound we can make two: I say
126
It is all falsehood; but we live in hope
127
Of success: and after it we grope,
128
But the science runs so far before
129
We cannot, despite the oath we swore,
130
Overtake it; it glides away so fast.
131
It will leave us beggars at the last.’
132
While the Yeoman thus went on talking,
133
The Canon, drawing near, heard everything
134
That the Yeoman said; for great suspicion
135
Of men’s speech ever had this Canon.
136
For Cato says, that he who guilty is
137
Thinks all men speak of him, as in this.
138
That was the reason he so near did draw
139
To his Yeoman, to eavesdrop all the more.
140
And then he spoke unto his Yeoman, so:
141
‘Hold your peace and speak not, I say no!
142
For if you do, you’ll pay for it full dearly.
143
You’re slandering me to all this company,
144
Revealing also things that you should hide.’
145
‘Yet,’ quoth our Host, ‘tell on whate’er betide!
146
And all his threats reckon them not a fly.’
147
‘By my faith,’ quoth he, ‘no more shall I.’
148
And when the Canon saw that it must be,
149
And the Yeoman dispense with privacy,
150
He fled away, for very sorrow and shame.
151
‘Ah,’ quoth the Yeoman, ‘now begins a game!
152
All that I know, anon now I will tell,
153
Since he’s gone – fiends whisk him off to Hell!
154
For never hereafter with him will I visit,
155
For a penny or a pound, so I swear it.
156
He that brought me first to that foul game,
157
Before he dies, sorrow on him, and shame!
158
For all is serious to me, in faith.
159
That I feel whatever any man sayeth.
160
And despite the pain, and all my grief,
161
Despite my sorrow, labour, and mischief,
162
I could never forsake it in any wise.
163
Now would God my wits might suffice
164
To tell you all belonging to that art!
165
Yet, nonetheless, I will tell you part;
166
Since my lord is gone, no details spare.
167
Whatever of it I know, I shall declare.’
168
Here ends the Prologue of the Canon’s Yeoman’s tale
2. The Canon Yeoman’s Tale
1
Here begins the Canon’s Yeoman his Tale
1
With this Canon I’ve dwelt for seven years,
2
Yet his science no clearer to me appears.
3
And all that I have had, I’ve lost thereby,
4
As, God knows, have many more than I!
5
Where I was wont to be right fresh each day
6
In clothing, and in other fine array,
7
Now I must wear my hose upon my head;
8
And where my colour was both fresh and red,
9
Now is it wan and of a leaden hue.
10
Whoso employs it, bitterly shall he rue!
11
And bleared yet from labour is my eye.
12
Lo, what a game it is to ‘multiply’!
13
The slippery science renders me so bare
14
I gain no profit, wherever I may fare.
15
And yet I am so much in debt thereby,
16
With the gold that I have borrowed, I,
17
While I live, may yet repay it never.
18
Let every man be warned by me forever!
19
Whichever man applies himself thereto,
20
His luck is over, if he dare continue.
21
So help me God, nothing thereby he’ll win,
22
But empty his purse, and make his wits thin.
23
And when he, through his madness and folly,
24
Has placed his own wealth in jeopardy,
25
Then he’ll excite other folks thereto
26
To lose their own wealth, as he must do.
27
For to villains a joy it is, and does please,
28
To see others suffer pain and disease.
29
– Thus I was once informed by a clerk.
30
Of that no matter; I’ll speak of our work.
31
When we had found a place to exercise
32
Our elvish craft, we appeared wondrous wise;
33
Our language was so technical and quaint.
34
I blew the fire till I was fit to faint.
35
Why should I tell you every proportion
36
Of all the substances we worked upon?
37
– Such as, five or six ounces, it may be,
38
Of silver, or some other quantity –
39
Or busy myself to tell you all the names,
40
Arsenic sulphides, burnt bone, iron grains,
41
All into powder ground, and rendered small;
42
And how in an earthen pot we put it all,
43
And put in salt, a sprinkling of pepper,
44
Before the powders that I speak of, covered
45
The whole thing with a vessel made of glass;
46
And many another thing which there was;
47
And with clay the pots and glasses sealing,
48
That, of the air, might pass out nothing;
49
And of the slow fire, and hot also,
50
Which we made, and all the care and woe
51
We took with our materials’ sublimation,
52
And in calcination and amalgamation
53
Of quicksilver, called mercury indeed?
54
For all our tricks we could not succeed.
55
Our arsenic sulphides, sublimated mercury,
56
Our lead oxides ground down fine on porphyry;
57
Of each of these some ounces went for certain –
58
Nothing helped; we laboured all in vain!
59
Neither the vapours in their ascension,
60
Nor the solids left settling all adown
61
Did in our workings anything avail,
62
For lost was all our labour and travail.
63
And all the cost, all gone the devil’s way,
64
Was lost also, whatever we had to pay.
65
There is also many another thing
66
To mention, to our craft appertaining,
67
Though I can’t by rote rehearse the plan,
68
For truly I was never a learned man.
69
Yet I will speak them as they come to mind,
70
Though I can’t enumerate them by kind:
71
– Such as Armenian clay, verdigris, borax,
72
And sundry vessels made of earth and glass,
73
Our urinals, our pots for distillation,
74
Phials, crucibles, pots for sublimation,
75
Of gourd-retorts, and alembics I speak,
76
And other such, all hardly worth a leek –
77
I’ve no need to rehearse them all –
78
Waters for reddening metals, bull’s gall,
79
Arsenic, sal ammoniac, and brimstone;
80
And herbs I might mention, many a one
81
– As moonwort, valerian, agrimony,
82
And other such, if I should choose to tarry.
83
Our vessels glowing bright, both night and day,
84
To bring about our purpose, if we may;
85
Our furnaces too for calcination,
86
And waters for the albification;
87
Un-slaked lime, chalk and egg-white, say,
88
Powders diverse, ashes, dung, piss and clay,
89
Waxed bags, saltpetre, vitriol,
90
And diverse fires made of wood and coal;
91
Tartar, alkali, salt preparation,
92
And combust matters in coagulation;
93
Clay made with horse or human hair, and oil
94
Of tartar, potash of alum, yeast, argoile,
95
Realgar, unfermented beer, moistening
96
Matter, matter for our compounding,
97
And for our silver’s citrination,
98
Our testing by heat, our fermentation,
99
Our ingots, vessels for assay, and so.
100
I’ll tell you, as was taught to me, also,
101
Of the four spirits and the bodies seven,
102
In order, as I heard my master give them:
103
The first spirit’s quicksilver, in the list;
104
The second arsenic sulphide; the third is
105
Sal ammoniac, and the fourth brimstone.
106
The bodies seven too, lo here anon:
107
Sol gold is, and Luna’s silver, all;
108
Mars iron, Mercury quicksilver we call;
109
Saturn is lead, and Jupiter is tin,
110
And Venus copper, by my father’s kin.
111
Who this wretched craft shall exercise,
112
Shall have no wealth from it that may suffice,
113
For all the wealth he spends thereabout
114
Shall he lose; of that I have no doubt.
115
Who would reveal his folly, so say I,
116
Let him come forth and learn to ‘multiply’.
117
And every man with aught in his coffer,
118
Let him appear and play philosopher,
119
If to the craft it’s easy to aspire!
120
Nay, nay, God knows, be it monk or friar,
121
Priest or canon on whom the wish should light,
122
Though he sit at his books both day and night
123
Studying this foolish elvish lore,
124
All is in vain – and, in faith, it’s more
125
Vain teaching a layman all this subtlety!
126
Fie! Speak not of it, no way shall it be.
127
Whether he knows his letters, or knows none,
128
The effect’s the same, he’ll find it all one;
129
For either of the two, by my salvation,
130
Achieve the same at alchemy’s mutation,
131
Whatever ‘multiplying’ they may do,
132
That is to say, they fail: both the two.
133
Still have I forgotten my rehearsal
134
Of corrosive liquids, and of metal,
135
And of bodies’ mollification,
136
And also of their induration,
137
Oils, ablutions, and metal fusible –
138
To tell it all’s beyond any bible
139
Anywhere; and so, and for the best,
140
From all these names I’ll take a rest.
141
It seems to me, enough I’ve told you now
142
To raise a fiend, one fierce enough I vow.
143
Ah, nay, let be! The philosopher’s stone,
144
Called the elixir, we seek it every one,
145
For had we it, we’d be secure, and how.
146
Yet to the God of Heaven I will avow,
147
For all our skill, when the work is through,
148
Despite our wit, still is there all to do.
149
It tempted us to spend our worldly good,
150
For sorrow of which go mad we should,
151
Except that hope still creeps about our heart,
152
Dreaming ever, despite our bitter smart,
153
Of being eased by profit, afterward.
154
Such dreaming, and such hope dies hard;
155
I warn you, you’ll seek for it forever.
156
That future hope makes madmen sever,
157
By trusting it, from all they ever had;
158
Yet the art can never make them sad,
159
For to them it is still bitter-sweet.
160
So it seems – for have they but a sheet,
161
In which to wrap themselves of a night,
162
And a coarse cloak to walk in, by daylight,
163
They will sell them, and spend it on the craft.
164
They cannot cease till nothing’s left, alas.
165
And evermore, wherever they choose to go,
166
By that brimstone smell, men may them know.
167
For all the world, they stink like goats, the lot!
168
The smell they give off is so rank and hot
169
That though a man a mile from them may be,
170
The smell will still infect him yet, trust me.
171
Thus by the smell, and their threadbare array,
172
If men wish recognise these folk they may.
173
And if a man will ask them privately
174
Why they clothe themselves so shabbily,
175
They right anon will whisper in his ear,
176
And say that if they discovered were
177
Men would slay them, because of their science.
178
Lo, thus these folk trade on innocence!
179
Pass over this; I go my tale unto.
180
Ere that the pot be on the fire anew,
181
Metals in specific quantity,
182
My lord tempers, and no man but he –
183
Now he is gone, I dare say it boldly –
184
For, as men say, he works skilfully
185
(At any rate, I know he’s earned a name),
186
And yet he often blunders just the same.
187
Know you how? Full oft it happens so,
188
The pot breaks, and then there’s naught to show!
189
These metals are of such great violence,
190
Our walls provide but limited resistance,
191
Unless they are wrought of lime and stone.
192
They pierce so, and through the wall are gone,
193
And some of them sink straight into the ground –
194
Thus have we lost sometimes many a pound –
195
And some are scattered all the floor about,
196
Some leap up to the roof. Without a doubt,
197
Though to our sight the fiend won’t show,
198
I think he’s with us, that foul so and so!
199
In Hell, where he is the lord and sire,
200
There’s no more woe, or rancour, or ire,
201
Than when our pot breaks, as I have said;
202
Everyone chides, pours insults on our head.
203
Some say it was faulty fire-making;
204
Some say nay, it was faulty blowing;
205
Then I’m a-feared, since that’s my office.
206
‘Straw!’ says a third, ‘You’re foolish twice!
207
It wasn’t tempered as it ought to be!
208
‘Nay,’ says a fourth, ‘hearken unto me.
209
Because the fire wasn’t made of beech,
210
That’s the cause, and none other, I teach!’
211
I’ve no idea where the thing went wrong,
212
But well I know great strife is us among.
213
‘Well!’ says my lord, ‘No more can be done.
214
I’ll be more careful in time to come.
215
I’m certain now that the pot was crazed.
216
Be it as it may, be not dismayed;
217
As we do, sweep the floor, swift and lithe.
218
Pluck up your courage, be glad and blithe!’
219
The rubbish in a heap is swept, alas,
220
And over the floor a piece of canvas cast,
221
And all the rubbish in a sieve is thrown,
222
And sifted, and picked over like a bone.
223
‘By my faith,’ says one, ‘some of our metal
224
Is here yet, although we have not it all.
225
And though the thing has failed us for now,
226
Another time it may go well, I vow.
227
We have to risk our wealth, at a venture!
228
A merchant, by my faith, can’t endure
229
For long, trust me, in his prosperity.
230
Sometimes his wealth is drowned in the sea,
231
And sometimes it comes home safe to land.’
232
‘Peace!’ quoth my lord,’ Next time, you understand,
233
I’ll try to bring our craft to perfection,
234
And if I do not, sires, condemn my actions!
235
There was a fault, though what fault I know not.’
236
Another claimed the fire was over hot –
237
But, be it hot or cold, I dare say this,
238
Our attempt would still have gone amiss.
239
We fail to profit from all that we gave,
240
And in our madness evermore we rave.
241
And when we are together, everyone
242
Seems as wise as was King Solomon;
243
But everything that glitters is not gold
244
Nor everything that shines, I am told,
245
Nor is every apple that meets the eye
246
Good to eat, whatever the hue and cry.
247
Right so, behold, it fares amongst us:
248
He that seems the wisest man, by Jesus,
249
Is the biggest fool, when put to proof,
250
And who seems honest is a thief, in truth.
251
This you shall know, ere from you I wend,
252
By the time my tale has reached an end.
1
There is a canon now of religion
2
Amongst us, who could infect a town,
3
Though it were as great as Nineveh,
4
With Rome, Troy, and Alexandria.
5
His tricks and infinite deceitfulness
6
Are more than a man could write, I guess,
7
Though he might live for a thousand years.
8
In all this world of falsehood, it appears,
9
He has no equal, with jargon he’ll blind
10
All men, and speak, too, in so sly a kind,
11
When he communes with any day or night,
12
That he will make the man a fool outright,
13
Unless he is a fiend, as he himself is.
14
For many a man has he beguiled ere this,
15
And will, if he may live a little while.
16
And yet men ride, and go many a mile
17
To seek him out, and make his acquaintance,
18
Not knowing of his false governance.
19
And if you will grant me audience,
20
I will tell of it here, in your presence.
21
But worshipful canons, all religious,
22
Don’t think that I am slandering your house,
23
Although my tale may of a canon be.
24
In every order, some are rogues, we see!
25
And God forbid that a whole company
26
Should all do penance for one man’s folly.
27
To slander you is hardly my intent,
28
But to correct what is wrong, is meant.
29
This tale is not told for you alone, now,
30
But more for others. You well know how
31
That among Christ’s Apostles twelve
32
There was no traitor but Judas himself;
33
Then why would all the rest share the blame
34
Who were guiltless? Of you I say the same –
35
Save only this, if you will hark to me:
36
If any Judas in your convent be
37
Remove him swiftly, be it on your head
38
If shame or loss should ever cause you dread.
39
And be not displeased with me, I pray,
40
But in this instance hark to what I say.
41
In London lived a chantry priest I hear,
42
Who therein had dwelt for many a year,
43
Who was so agreeable and so able,
44
The housewife where he sat at table,
45
Would allow him not a coin to pay
46
For board or clothing, whatever his display;
47
And he had spending-silver too, and how.
48
No matter; I will proceed for now,
49
And tell forth all my tale of the canon
50
Who brought this priest to great confusion.
51
The false canon went along one day
52
To the priest’s chamber where he lay,
53
Beseeching him to lend him a certain
54
Sum of gold, which he’d repay again.
55
‘Lend me a mark,’ quoth he, ‘but days three,
56
And on the day appointed I’ll pay thee.
57
And if so be that you find me false,
58
The next day hang me from the walls!’
59
The priest took out a mark, at once,
60
And the canon thanked him anon,
61
And took his leave, and went forth on his way,
62
And on the third day came to repay,
63
And gave his gold to the priest again,
64
Of which the priest was glad, it’s plain.
65
‘Certainly,’ quoth he, ‘it’s fine by me
66
To lend a man a noble, or two, or three,
67
Or anything that is in my possession,
68
When he’s of such honest disposition
69
That he’ll in no wise fail of his day.
70
To such a man I never can say nay.’
71
‘What,’ quoth the canon, ‘I be untrue?
72
Nay, that would indeed be something new!
73
My honour is a thing I’ll ever keep
74
Until the final day on which I creep
75
Into my grave, all else God forbid!
76
Believe in this as surely as the Creed!
77
God be thanked, in good time be it said,
78
There was never a man not repaid
79
By me with the gold or silver he had lent,
80
Nor never a falsehood in my intent.
81
And sire,’ quoth he, ‘now all privately,
82
Since you have show such courtesy to me,
83
And dealt with me with such nobleness,
84
To repay you somewhat for your goodness
85
I’ll tell you something: if you wish to hear,
86
I’ll teach you plainly all the manner
87
In which I can work true alchemy.
88
Take good heed; with your own eye you’ll see
89
That I will work a miracle ere I go.’
90
‘Yea?’ quoth the priest, ‘Sire, and will you so?
91
Marry! I pray you do so, heartily.’
92
‘At your command, sire, I shall do, truly,’
93
Quoth the canon, ‘all else God forbid!’
94
Lo, how this thief could his service bid!
95
True indeed it is that proffered service
96
Stinks: call the old and wise as witness;
97
And that full soon you will surely see
98
In this canon, root of all treachery,
99
Who evermore delights and finds gladness –
100
Such fiendish tricks his thoughts express –
101
When on Christ’s people mischief he does bring.
102
God keep us from his false dissembling!
103
The priest knew nothing of with whom he dealt,
104
And of the coming harm he nothing felt.
105
O foolish priest, O foolish innocent,
106
By covetousness, anon, to be rent!
107
O devoid of grace: blind your conceit!
108
Utterly unaware of the deceit
109
This cunning fox has crafted for thee.
110
From his wily tricks you may not flee;
111
And therefore to reach my conclusion
112
Which concerns your utter confusion,
113
Unhappy man, I will move on swiftly
114
To tell of your stupidity and folly,
115
And the falseness of that other wretch,
116
As far as my ability may stretch.
117
This canon was my lord, you think I mean?
118
Sir Host, in faith, and by the Heavens’ Queen,
119
It was another canon, and not he,
120
A hundred-fold deeper in subtlety.
121
He has betrayed folks many a time;
122
Of his falseness it troubles me to rhyme.
123
Whenever I speak about his falsehood,
124
For shame of him my cheeks fill with blood
125
– At any rate, they begin to glow,
126
For redness I have none, as I do know,
127
In my visage, for the fumes all diverse
128
Of metals, which you heard me rehearse,
129
Consumed and wasted have my redness.
130
Take heed of this canon’s wickedness!
131
‘Sire,’ quoth he to the priest, ‘Send your man
132
For quicksilver, so we have some on hand;
133
And let him bring us two ounces or three;
134
And when he returns, then you shall see
135
A wondrous thing you never saw ere this.’
136
‘Sire,’ quoth the priest, ‘as you command, it is.’
137
He bade his servant fetch him this thing,
138
And he was all ready at his bidding,
139
And so went forth, and came anon again
140
With this quicksilver, briefly to explain,
141
And handed three ounces to the canon;
142
And he laid them fair and well adown,
143
And bade the servant coals for to bring,
144
That he might at once begin its working.
145
The servant swiftly brought the coal,
146
And the canon then took a crucible
147
From his bosom, and showed it to the priest.
148
‘This instrument,’ quoth he, ‘which you see,
149
Take it in hand yourself, and place therein
150
Of this quicksilver an ounce, and so begin,
151
In Christ’s name, to be a philosopher.
152
There are few indeed to whom I’d offer
153
To show them this much of all my science,
154
For you shall see here, by experience,
155
This quicksilver I’ll harden, by and by,
156
Right in your sight anon, without a lie,
157
And make it as good silver, and as fine,
158
As there is any in your purse, or mine,
159
Or elsewhere, and make it malleable –
160
Else hold me as false, and unable
161
Ever amongst true folks to appear!
162
I have a powder here, that cost me dear,
163
Which makes all good, it’s the root of all
164
My power, of which I’ll show you more.
165
Send your man away, he can stand without,
166
And shut the door while we are about
167
Our private tasks, that no man may us see,
168
While we work at all this alchemy.’
169
All that he asked was fulfilled in deed:
170
The servant was sent away with speed,
171
And his master shut the door anon,
172
And to their labour swiftly are they gone.
173
The priest, at this wretched canon’s bidding,
174
Upon the fire anon set this thing,
175
And blew the fire, and busied him full fast.
176
And the canon into the crucible cast
177
A powder – I know not what it was
178
Chalk perhaps, perhaps it was of glass,
179
Or something else not worth a fly,
180
To blind this priest with – and bade him ply
181
The tongs, and lay the coal all above
182
The crucible: ‘As a token I thee love,’
183
Quoth this canon, ‘with your own hands two
184
Shall you work the thing which here we do.’
185
‘Graunt merci,’ quoth the priest, and was full glad,
186
And laid the coals out as the canon bade.
187
And while he was busy, the fiendish wretch,
188
This false canon – the foul fiend him fetch! –
189
Out of his bosom took a beech-wood coal,
190
In which all subtly he had bored a hole,
191
And put therein silver filings from the scale,
192
An ounce, and sealed it was, without fail,
193
That hole with wax, to keep the silver in.
194
And understand that this false piece of sin
195
Was not made there, but it was made before;
196
And other things that I shall tell of more
197
Hereafter, that he with him had brought.
198
Ere he came, to beguile the priest he thought;
199
And so he did, ere that they had parted.
200
He couldn’t wait to fleece him, once he’d started.
201
It angers me when of him I speak;
202
On his falsehood vengeance would I wreak,
203
If I knew how, but he is here and there;
204
He’s so changeable, he abides nowhere.
205
But take heed now, sires, for God’s love:
206
He took the coal, of which I spoke above,
207
And in his hand he held it covertly,
208
And while the priest was working busily
209
With the other coals, as I said ere this,
210
The canon spoke: ‘Friend, you’ve gone amiss.
211
This is not laid out as it ought to be.
212
But I’ll soon amend it now,’ quoth he.
213
Let me fiddle with all this for a while,
214
For I take pity on you, by Saint Giles!
215
You are full hot – I see how you do sweat.
216
Here, take a cloth, and wipe away the wet.’
217
And while the priest stood and wiped his face,
218
The canon took his coal – may he lack grace! –
219
And laid it above, on the middle ward
220
Of the crucible, and blew well afterward,
221
Till the coals burnt vigorously, and then:
222
‘Give us a drink,’ quoth the canon ‘when,
223
In a trice all will be well, I undertake.
224
Sit us down, and let us merry make.’
225
And when the canon’s beechen coal
226
Was burnt, all the metal from the hole
227
Into the crucible flowed down anon
228
– For so it had to do, as stands to reason,
229
Since laid so levelly above it was.
230
But the priest knew naught of it, alas!
231
He thought all the coals equally good,
232
For of the trick he nothing understood.
233
And when the alchemist saw it was time,
234
‘Rise up,’ quoth he, ‘sir priest and stand by me,
235
And since an ingot mould I know you’ve none,
236
Go walk forth, and bring me some chalk-stone,
237
For I will mould it into the same shape
238
That a silver ingot has, its form I’ll ape.
239
And bring with you, too, a bowl or pan
240
Full of water and you will see, good man,
241
How our affair shall prosper and conceive.
242
But wait: so that you may not misbelieve
243
Nor have suspicions of me in your absence,
244
I will not stay here out of your presence,
245
But go with you, and come with you again.’
246
The chamber door, shortly, to explain,
247
They opened and shut, and went their way,
248
And carried the key with them, I may say,
249
And came back again without delay.
250
Why tarry, in telling this, the livelong day?
251
He took the chalk, and carved it in the wise
252
Of a silver ingot mould, that’s no surprise.
253
I say, he took from out of his own sleeve
254
A silver rod – curse those who do deceive! –
255
Which was exactly a full ounce in weight.
256
And take heed now of the trick he played:
257
He carved his ingot mould in length and breadth
258
To fit this rod, cunningly, as I said,
259
So slyly that the priest naught espied,
260
And in his sleeve again he did it hide,
261
And from the fire he took up his matter,
262
And poured it in the mould, with merry cheer,
263
Then in the water he the mould did cast
264
As he wished; and the priest called at the last,
265
‘Look what is there – put in your hand and grope!
266
You will find silver there, I dare to hope.’
267
What else, by the Devil and Hell, could it be?
268
Silver shavings formed it, utterly!
269
The priest put in his hand, and plain as plain
270
Found the silver rod: joy through every vein
271
Of the priest coursed, on seeing it was so.
272
‘God’s blessing, and his mother’s also,
273
And all his saints, on you, sir canon!’
274
Said the priest, ‘and on me derision,
275
If – should you agree that you’ll teach me
276
This noble craft and all its subtlety –
277
I am not yours, in all that ever I may.’
278
Quoth the canon: ‘Yet will I make assay
279
A second time, so that you may take heed
280
And become expert, and when you need
281
To do so, another day, in my absence,
282
Work this discipline and skilful science.
283
Let us take up another ounce,’ quoth he,
284
‘Of quicksilver, at once, and rapidly
285
Do with it as you have done ere this
286
With the other, which turned to silver is.’
287
The priest busies himself quick as he can
288
To do just as the canon, that wicked man,
289
Has commanded him, and fast blows the fire
290
To come at all the fruits of his desire.
291
And the canon too, in the meanwhile,
292
Is all ready the priest to twice beguile;
293
And in pretence in his hand does bear
294
A hollow stick – take note and be aware! –
295
In the end of which an ounce, and no more
296
Of silver metal was placed, as before
297
In the coal, and sealed with wax as well,
298
To keep the bits of metal where they must dwell.
299
And while the priest arranged the business,
300
The canon with his stick began to address
301
The crucible and all his powder he cast in,
302
As he did before – the devil out of his skin
303
Flay him, I pray to God, for his deceit!
304
For he was ever false in thought and deed –
305
And with his stick, above the crucible,
306
That was all charged with that false metal,
307
He stirred the coals till to melt began
308
The wax within the fire, as every man,
309
Knows well it should, unless he is a fool,
310
And all that was in the stick poured out too
311
And into the crucible it swiftly fell.
312
Now, good sires, what do you think befell?
313
When the priest was thus beguiled again,
314
Supposing it naught but true, truth to say,
315
He was so glad I can scarce express
316
The nature of his mirth and his gladness;
317
As for the canon he offered him the moon,
318
His body and soul. Quoth the canon soon,
319
‘Though poor I be, skilful you shall me find,
320
I warn you; and there is yet more behind.
321
Is there any copper about?’ said he.
322
‘Yes, sire,’ quoth the priest, ‘I think there be.’
323
– ‘If not, go buy some now for us, quickly!
324
Good sire, be on your way, and haste thee.’
325
The priest went off, and with the copper came,
326
And the canon took in his hands the same,
327
And of the copper weighed out just an ounce.
328
All too powerless is my tongue to pronounce,
329
As minister to my thought, the wickedness
330
Of this canon, root of all sinfulness!
331
He seemed a friend to those who knew him not,
332
But he was a fiend, in his deeds and thought.
333
It wearies me to tell of all his falseness,
334
Yet nevertheless, I will it all express,
335
So that men may be made aware, thereby,
336
And for no other reason, the truth say I.
337
The ounce of copper in the crucible
338
He placed, and on the fire set the metal,
339
Cast in the powder, made the priest to blow,
340
And in his working made him stoop down low,
341
As he did before – the whole thing was a jape;
342
As he had wished, he made the priest his ape!
343
And afterwards, in the mould the metal cast,
344
And in the pan placed it at the last
345
Of water, and into it put his hand,
346
And in his sleeve (just as beforehand
347
You heard me tell) he had a silver rod.
348
He slyly took it out, this cursed of God,
349
The priest ignorant still of his false craft,
350
And in the bottom of the pan (you laughed!)
351
Placed it, tumbling the water to and fro,
352
And wondrous secretly took up also
353
The copper rod, invisibly to the priest,
354
And hid it, and by the arm him seized,
355
And spoke to him, and carried on the game:
356
‘Stoop down now – by God, or you’re to blame! –
357
Help me now, as I did you before. Where
358
Is your hand? Dip in, and see what’s there.’
359
The priest took up the silver rod anon;
360
And then said the canon: ‘Let us now be gone,
361
With these three rods, that we have wrought,
362
To a goldsmith, and see if they be aught.
363
For, by my faith I’d swear, by my hood,
364
That they are pure silver, fine and good,
365
And that swiftly proven shall it be.’
366
Off to the goldsmith with these rods three
367
They went, and put the rods to the assay
368
With fire and hammer; and none could say
369
They were not what they ought to be.
370
The foolish priest, who was gladder than he?
371
There was never bird gladder to see the day,
372
No nightingale in the merry month of May
373
Was ever more eager than him to sing,
374
No lady more vigorous in carolling,
375
Or speaking of love and womanhood,
376
No knight in arms to show as brave and good,
377
To gain the favour of his lady dear,
378
Than was this priest an expert to appear!
379
And to the canon thus he loudly cried:
380
‘For love of God, who for us all has died,
381
And as I may deserve your favour, how
382
Much does this secret cost? Tell me now!’
383
‘By our lady,’ quoth the canon, ‘it comes dear,
384
I warn you; for save I, and one, my peer,
385
In England no other man can silver make.’
386
‘No matter,’ quoth he, ‘now, sire, for God’s sake,
387
What must I pay? Tell me that, I pray.’
388
‘Well,’ quoth he, ‘it is full dear, I say.
389
Sire, in a word, if such is what you crave,
390
You must pay forty pounds, so God me save!
391
And were it not for the friendship, as it is,
392
You’ve showed to me, it would be more than this.’
393
The priest the sum of forty pounds anon,
394
In nobles, fetched, and took them every one
395
To the canon for his formula, complete.
396
All his working was but fraud and deceit.
397
‘Sir priest,’ he said, ‘I cannot make the most
398
Of my craft, its secrets must be kept close;
399
So, as you love me, keep them secretly,
400
For, if men knew of all my subtlety,
401
By God, they’d be so possessed by envy
402
Of me, because of all my alchemy,
403
I’d be stone dead; that would be their way.’
404
‘God forbid!’ quoth the priest, ‘What’s this you say?
405
I’d rather spend all the wealth I had,
406
Or hope to have, else may I be mad,
407
Than to see you suffer such misdeed.’
408
‘Of your goodwill, you show proof indeed!’
409
Quoth the canon, ‘Now farewell, grant merci!’
410
He went his way, and never the priest did see
411
Him from that day to this; and when the priest
412
Made assay, the next time that he wished,
413
Of the formula, farewell! – It was deceit!
414
Lo thus befuddled, and beguiled was he!
415
So does the canon make preparation
416
To bring folk to their own destruction.
417
Consider, sires, how in all walks of life,
418
Between men and gold there is ever strife,
419
So much so that there is scarcely any.
420
This alchemy now has so blinded many
421
That, in good faith, I swear that it must be
422
The greatest cause of all this scarcity.
423
Philosophers speak so mistily
424
Of this craft, that men can barely see,
425
Not with the wit that men have nowadays.
426
They may go on chattering like jays,
427
And on its jargon wager joy and pain,
428
But to its end they never will attain.
429
A man easily learn, if he owns aught,
430
To ‘multiply’, and bring his wealth to naught.
431
Lo, such a profit there is in this sweet game:
432
A man’s mirth it will turn to woe and shame,
433
Empty out their large and heavy purses,
434
And end in folk purchasing fresh curses
435
From those that to it their wealth have turned.
436
O fie, for shame! – They that have been burned,
437
Can they not learn, alas, to shun the heat?
438
You that try it, I’d advise you flee it,
439
Or lose all; better than never is late.
440
For wealth, ‘never’ is far too long to wait;
441
Though you search always, you’ll never find.
442
You are as bold as Bayard is, the blind
443
And blundering horse, perils all unknown.
444
He is as like to run against a stone
445
As to wander along the broad highway.
446
So fare you all who ‘multiply’ I say.
447
If your eyes cannot see aright,
448
Be careful your mind lacks not its sight;
449
For though you gaze ever so wide, or stare,
450
You’ll win nothing at all by dabbling there,
451
But merely waste all you may seize in turn.
452
Dampen the fire lest it swiftly burn;
453
Meddle no more with all that art, I mean,
454
For if you do, your coffers will be clean.
455
And listen to me again, here’s the chatter:
456
What true alchemists made of this matter.
457
Give Arnold of Villanova your attention –
458
In his Rosary the process he does mention –
459
He speaks thus, without shadow of a lie:
460
‘No man may harden mercury, say I,
461
Without his brother sulphur inflowing.’
462
Yet the man who first said this thing
463
Was the father of the alchemists, Hermes;
464
He says that the dragon, if you please,
465
Does not die unless he in turn is slain
466
With his brother, and, I should explain,
467
By the dragon, mercury, and no other
468
He understood, and brimstone by his brother,
469
That out of Sol and Luna men do draw.
470
‘And therefore,’ said he – listen to my lore –
471
‘Let no man busy himself those heights to reach,
472
Unless the intention and the speech
473
Of the alchemists he does understand.
474
And if he does not, he’s a foolish man;
475
For this science and this skill,’ quoth he,
476
‘Is the most secret of secrets, trust in me.’
477
Also there was a disciple of Plato
478
Who once spoke to his master – I know,
479
For the book Senior Zadith bears witness –
480
Making demand that the truth he express:
481
‘Tell me the name of the secret stone.’
482
And Plato answered him right anon:
483
‘Take the stone that men Titanos name – ’
484
‘What is that?’ quoth he; ‘Magnesia is the same,’
485
Said Plato. ‘Yea, sire, and is it thus?
486
You explain ignotum per ignocius!
487
What is Magnesia then, good sire, I pray?’
488
‘It is a liquid that is made, I say,
489
Out of four elements,’ then quoth Plato.
490
‘Tell me the root, good sire,’ quoth he also,
491
‘Of that liquid, if so be your will.’
492
‘Nay,’ quoth Plato, ‘It is a secret, still!
493
The philosophers are sworn every one
494
To reveal the essence of this to none,
495
Nor write it in a book in any manner,
496
For to God it is so precious and dear
497
That he wishes not its discovery,
498
Save where it is pleasing to his deity
499
To enlighten men, and thus to defend
500
The truth from others; lo, this is the end!’
501
So I conclude thus, since the God of Heaven
502
Won’t allow philosophers, with reason,
503
To say how men might come at this stone,
504
I advise you for the best, let it alone!
505
For whoever makes God his adversary,
506
And tries to work a thing that’s contrary
507
To His will, for sure, shall never thrive,
508
Though he ‘multiply’ as long as he’s alive.
509
And that’s the point; for ended is my tale.
510
God send every true man grace without fail!
511
Here is ended the Canon’s Yeoman’s Tale
|
