The Canterbury Tales of Chaucer modernis'd by several hands. Publsh'd by Mr. Oggle |
 | I. |
|
| II. |
| III. |
CONCLUSION TO THE CLERK of Oxford's TALE. |
 | The Canterbury Tales of Chaucer |  |
264
CONCLUSION TO THE CLERK of Oxford's TALE.
I mean not, by this Tale, I must declare,
What Husbands shou'd exact, or Wives shou'd bear.
That Sense wou'd much my gen'rous Master wrong;
For thus Petrarch has moraliz'd the Song.
What Husbands shou'd exact, or Wives shou'd bear.
That Sense wou'd much my gen'rous Master wrong;
For thus Petrarch has moraliz'd the Song.
Ye Fair! Without Offence, let Truth be told;
This Age is not so strong as was the Old.
The Proof You cou'd not suffer, if you wou'd;
Too much for Human Flesh, and Human Blood.
This Age is not so strong as was the Old.
The Proof You cou'd not suffer, if you wou'd;
Too much for Human Flesh, and Human Blood.
Yet Patience is a Good, of Use in Life,
To Youth, or Maid! to Husband, or to Wife!
A Virtue, to no Sex, or Age, confin'd!
Our Author wou'd extend it to Mankind.
To Youth, or Maid! to Husband, or to Wife!
A Virtue, to no Sex, or Age, confin'd!
Our Author wou'd extend it to Mankind.
265
For if such Trials bore, such Hazards ran,
(Mere Force of Love!) a Woman for a Man;
Shall I presume to question his Decree?
By Whom, I am! In Whom, I hope to Be!
(Mere Force of Love!) a Woman for a Man;
Shall I presume to question his Decree?
By Whom, I am! In Whom, I hope to Be!
Vice luring, in the Way of Virtue, lies.
God suffers This; but tempts not: tho' He tries.
Go Wrong, or Right, 'tis your own Action still;
He leaves You to your Choice, of Good, or Ill.
God suffers This; but tempts not: tho' He tries.
Go Wrong, or Right, 'tis your own Action still;
He leaves You to your Choice, of Good, or Ill.
Then chuse the Good! The Ill submissly bear!
The Man of Virtue is above Despair.
Safe, on this Maxim, with Griselda rest!
That All, that fortunes, fortunes for the Best!
The Man of Virtue is above Despair.
Safe, on this Maxim, with Griselda rest!
That All, that fortunes, fortunes for the Best!
Chaucer, who close attended, from the Ground
His musing Eyes up-rais'd, and look'd around.
“Spare me (He cry'd) if not our Host oppose,
“One Word of Epilogue, before you close.
“So rare a Coin, are true Griseldas grown,
“Scarce Two are found, in any Country Town.
“And bold the Man, not wise, that dares ingage
“To warrant One, in London, in an Age.
“For put the Current Cash to full Assay,
“The Gold is mix'd with Brass; a bad Alay!
“And shou'd it stand the Touch, or cheat the Eye;
“Trust me, at last, 'twill rather break than ply.
His musing Eyes up-rais'd, and look'd around.
“Spare me (He cry'd) if not our Host oppose,
“One Word of Epilogue, before you close.
“So rare a Coin, are true Griseldas grown,
“Scarce Two are found, in any Country Town.
“And bold the Man, not wise, that dares ingage
“To warrant One, in London, in an Age.
266
“The Gold is mix'd with Brass; a bad Alay!
“And shou'd it stand the Touch, or cheat the Eye;
“Trust me, at last, 'twill rather break than ply.
“Hence, let our Pray'rs the Wife of Bath befriend,
“Whose Life, and Sect, ye Pow'rs of Love defend.
“Still may her Tongue the sov'reign Rule maintain;
“And never may her Hand relax the Rein.
“Free may she live, in undisturb'd Delight,
“All Day in Revel, and in Bliss all Night.
“Nor will the Modest Scholar think me bold;
“(Who with much Decency much Truth has told)
“Or will with me, as with mine Host dispense;
“(For no light Humor takes from solid Sense)
“If this Advice I add, to poise the Scale:
“A merry Moral suits a serious Tale.
“Whose Life, and Sect, ye Pow'rs of Love defend.
“Still may her Tongue the sov'reign Rule maintain;
“And never may her Hand relax the Rein.
“Free may she live, in undisturb'd Delight,
“All Day in Revel, and in Bliss all Night.
“Nor will the Modest Scholar think me bold;
“(Who with much Decency much Truth has told)
“Or will with me, as with mine Host dispense;
“(For no light Humor takes from solid Sense)
“If this Advice I add, to poise the Scale:
“A merry Moral suits a serious Tale.
“Dead, is, Griselda! Wifly Patience, Dead!
“Both bury'd in one Tomb! Both laid in Lead!
“For which, ye Husbands, lend attentive Ear;
“Hear me, for it concerns You much to hear.
“Let None, I warn You, None on Pain of Life,
“In Search of a Griselda, tempt his Wife.
“If half so far, her Patience You assail;
“You try Her, to your Loss, for She will fail.
“Both bury'd in one Tomb! Both laid in Lead!
“For which, ye Husbands, lend attentive Ear;
“Hear me, for it concerns You much to hear.
267
“In Search of a Griselda, tempt his Wife.
“If half so far, her Patience You assail;
“You try Her, to your Loss, for She will fail.
“And You, ye Wives of Spirit, above Wrongs,
“Let no such mean Example nail your Tongues.
“Let, never, moral Poet of your Age,
“Fill, with your Duty, one Romantic Page.
“Be Pleasure, your Pursuit! Be Pow'r, your Aim!
“Make Nothing, of your Virtue, or your Fame!
“Of Truth and Honor, laugh at All he writes;
“Vain Talk for Children! Nurs'ry Cant of Sprites!
“Let no such mean Example nail your Tongues.
“Let, never, moral Poet of your Age,
“Fill, with your Duty, one Romantic Page.
“Be Pleasure, your Pursuit! Be Pow'r, your Aim!
“Make Nothing, of your Virtue, or your Fame!
“Of Truth and Honor, laugh at All he writes;
“Vain Talk for Children! Nurs'ry Cant of Sprites!
“Thus taught; no Merit in Compliance place!
“Meanness of Soul, think, Modesty of Face!
“It matters not, how tender, when alone,
“The Part'ner of thy Life. It shou'd be known!
“Known to thy Friends! nor yet shou'd That suffice.
“To Strangers be it known! Might I advise.
“And now imprint this Lesson on your Mind,
“The Benefit, by Practice, you will find.
“Meanness of Soul, think, Modesty of Face!
“It matters not, how tender, when alone,
“The Part'ner of thy Life. It shou'd be known!
“Known to thy Friends! nor yet shou'd That suffice.
“To Strangers be it known! Might I advise.
“And now imprint this Lesson on your Mind,
“The Benefit, by Practice, you will find.
268
“Trust not the Marriage Venture to his Hand;
“Freight He the Frigate, Thou the Sail command!
“Why, to his blustry Oath, such Def'rence paid?
“The Husband, why thus dreaded and obey'd?
“Arm'd, tho' He stood, compleat in plated Mail;
“The Arrows of thy Quiver shall not fail.
“Thy crabbed Eloquence supplies a Dart,
“That, ent'ring at his Ear, shall pierce his Heart.
“Freight He the Frigate, Thou the Sail command!
“Why, to his blustry Oath, such Def'rence paid?
“The Husband, why thus dreaded and obey'd?
“Arm'd, tho' He stood, compleat in plated Mail;
“The Arrows of thy Quiver shall not fail.
“Thy crabbed Eloquence supplies a Dart,
“That, ent'ring at his Ear, shall pierce his Heart.
“If You have Beauty, strait alarm his Love.
“Be ever on the Dress, and on the Rove.
“At Home wou'd He remain? Abroad then roam!
“Then, wou'd He roam Abroad? Remain at Home!
“Make it your Rule, to see, and to be seen;
“Abroad in Humor! And at Home in Spleen!
“Touch but his Jealousy, You must prevail!
“Yes! You will make him couch like any Quail!
“Be ever on the Dress, and on the Rove.
“At Home wou'd He remain? Abroad then roam!
“Then, wou'd He roam Abroad? Remain at Home!
“Make it your Rule, to see, and to be seen;
“Abroad in Humor! And at Home in Spleen!
“Touch but his Jealousy, You must prevail!
“Yes! You will make him couch like any Quail!
“The Pow'r of Form, if Nature has deny'd;
“Tho' not his Love, You may alarm his Pride.
“Be open of your House, to sup, or dine,
“Bring Company; for All he has is Thine!
“To Fiddlers, Priests, Play'rs, Poets, give or lend!
“Money shall win Thee many an humble Friend!
“Thy Man, may fume, and fret, and rave, and rail!
“But touch his Honor, and You low'r his Sail.
“Tho' not his Love, You may alarm his Pride.
“Be open of your House, to sup, or dine,
“Bring Company; for All he has is Thine!
269
“Money shall win Thee many an humble Friend!
“Thy Man, may fume, and fret, and rave, and rail!
“But touch his Honor, and You low'r his Sail.
“For You, the Masculine, to Labor bred,
“When menaces his Hand, correct his Head.
“If Nature gives the Sinew and the Frame,
“Same as the Pow'r, why not the Use the same?
“Whene'er your Wish, is wilfully withstood,
“Exert your Talent; it will do him Good.
“Stick to your Point! Again withstood, withstand!
“There is no Logic, like a heavy Hand.
“When menaces his Hand, correct his Head.
“If Nature gives the Sinew and the Frame,
“Same as the Pow'r, why not the Use the same?
“Whene'er your Wish, is wilfully withstood,
“Exert your Talent; it will do him Good.
“Stick to your Point! Again withstood, withstand!
“There is no Logic, like a heavy Hand.
“But for the Delicate, the Weak in Fight,
“The Rich, the Great, the Tender, the Polite!
“Be furious as a Tiger! or if That
“You cannot compass; vixin as a Cat!
“By Tongue reclaim this Rebel to your Will!
“Loud as the Clapper of a Drudging Mill!
“Fast as the Flier of a well-order'd Jack
“From Morn to Night keep one continu'd Clack!
“And went He twice as loud, and twice as fast,
“Speak what He will, like Echo, speak the last.”
“The Rich, the Great, the Tender, the Polite!
“Be furious as a Tiger! or if That
“You cannot compass; vixin as a Cat!
“By Tongue reclaim this Rebel to your Will!
“Loud as the Clapper of a Drudging Mill!
“Fast as the Flier of a well-order'd Jack
“From Morn to Night keep one continu'd Clack!
270
“Speak what He will, like Echo, speak the last.”
The worthy Student, to Scholastic Pride
A Stranger, smil'd; but not a Word reply'd.
Not so mine Host the sly Conclusion bore,
Roundly he spoke, and horribly he swore.
‘Not much that Turn is suited to my Mind,
‘As quoth the Clerk, it leaves a Sting behind.
‘But I had rather than a Tun of Ale
‘Our Dame, at Home, had heard this courteous Tale.
‘Forsooth, to say, was her Domestic Life
‘Expos'd, no tame Griselda is our Wife.
‘But 'tis the daily Burden of my Song,
‘If Things will not go Right, let 'em go Wrong.
A Stranger, smil'd; but not a Word reply'd.
Not so mine Host the sly Conclusion bore,
Roundly he spoke, and horribly he swore.
‘Not much that Turn is suited to my Mind,
‘As quoth the Clerk, it leaves a Sting behind.
‘But I had rather than a Tun of Ale
‘Our Dame, at Home, had heard this courteous Tale.
‘Forsooth, to say, was her Domestic Life
‘Expos'd, no tame Griselda is our Wife.
‘But 'tis the daily Burden of my Song,
‘If Things will not go Right, let 'em go Wrong.
‘To Common Sense I owe these Golden Rules.
‘None will suspect I learn them in the Schools.
‘Patience I court; But Patience oft is frail.
‘And, if He curs'd not, Job himself cou'd rail.
‘A heavier Plague He never bore in Life;
‘A very Heap of Vices is our Wife.
‘Tho' Poor and Low; yet far from Fond or True.
‘And of her Tongue, She is an errant Shrew.
‘Still joys her That, which contradicts my Will;
‘But if it must be so, be it so still.
‘Yet, here my Mind more fully to disclose,
‘Reveal'd to Friends, and spoke beneath the Rose;
‘Wou'd some kind Priest but forge the Papal Bull,
‘Annull, shou'd be my Instant Song, Annull.
‘None will suspect I learn them in the Schools.
‘Patience I court; But Patience oft is frail.
‘And, if He curs'd not, Job himself cou'd rail.
‘A heavier Plague He never bore in Life;
‘A very Heap of Vices is our Wife.
271
‘And of her Tongue, She is an errant Shrew.
‘Still joys her That, which contradicts my Will;
‘But if it must be so, be it so still.
‘Yet, here my Mind more fully to disclose,
‘Reveal'd to Friends, and spoke beneath the Rose;
‘Wou'd some kind Priest but forge the Papal Bull,
‘Annull, shou'd be my Instant Song, Annull.
| The Canterbury Tales of Chaucer | |