The Canon's Yeoman's Tale Poem Rhyme Scheme and Analysis
Rhyme Scheme: A BCAADEDFGAHHEEIIJJFD KDLMNOPQHDAA DRRST SUUEV HDIWHDAXYZA2DDSSDIB2 DZZDYAAC2C2 D2D2DDDHD2ADEHE2 DF2D2EG2D2DH2D2D2I2 QJ2DD DDQDDK2D DAAHL2M2QSSZDDZN2F2S SD2 AASSDDO2O2SDD2D D2 HDDD SHP2D2DDDQDMQ2| THE PROLOGUE | A |
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| WHEN ended was the life of Saint Cecile | B |
| Ere we had ridden fully five mile | C |
| At Boughton under Blee us gan o'ertake | A |
| A man that clothed was in clothes black | A |
| And underneath he wore a white surplice | D |
| His hackenay which was all pomely gris nag dapple gray | E |
| So sweated that it wonder was to see | D |
| It seem'd as he had pricked miles three spurred | F |
| The horse eke that his yeoman rode upon | G |
| So sweated that unnethes might he gon hardly go | A |
| About the peytrel stood the foam full high | H |
| He was of foam as flecked as a pie spotted like a magpie | H |
| A maile twyfold on his crupper lay | E |
| It seemed that he carried little array | E |
| All light for summer rode this worthy man | I |
| And in my heart to wonder I began | I |
| What that he was till that I understood | J |
| How that his cloak was sewed to his hood | J |
| For which when I had long advised me considered | F |
| I deemed him some Canon for to be | D |
| His hat hung at his back down by a lace cord | K |
| For he had ridden more than trot or pace | D |
| He hadde pricked like as he were wood mad | L |
| A clote leaf he had laid under his hood burdock leaf | M |
| For sweat and for to keep his head from heat | N |
| But it was joye for to see him sweat | O |
| His forehead dropped as a stillatory still | P |
| Were full of plantain or of paritory wallflower | Q |
| And when that he was come he gan to cry | H |
| 'God save ' quoth he 'this jolly company | D |
| Fast have I pricked ' quoth he 'for your sake | A |
| Because that I would you overtake | A |
| To riden in this merry company ' | - |
| His Yeoman was eke full of courtesy | D |
| And saide 'Sirs now in the morning tide | R |
| Out of your hostelry I saw you ride | R |
| And warned here my lord and sovereign | S |
| Which that to ride with you is full fain | T |
| For his disport he loveth dalliance ' | - |
| 'Friend for thy warning God give thee good chance ' fortune | S |
| Said oure Host 'certain it woulde seem | U |
| Thy lord were wise and so I may well deem | U |
| He is full jocund also dare I lay | E |
| Can he aught tell a merry tale or tway | V |
| With which he gladden may this company ' | - |
| 'Who Sir my lord Yea Sir withoute lie | H |
| He can of mirth and eke of jollity knows | D |
| Not but enough also Sir truste me not less than | I |
| An ye him knew all so well as do I if | W |
| Ye would wonder how well and craftily | H |
| He coulde work and that in sundry wise | D |
| He hath take on him many a great emprise task undertaking | A |
| Which were full hard for any that is here | X |
| To bring about but they of him it lear unless learn | Y |
| As homely as he rides amonges you | Z |
| If ye him knew it would be for your prow advantage | A2 |
| Ye woulde not forego his acquaintance | D |
| For muche good I dare lay in balance | D |
| All that I have in my possession | S |
| He is a man of high discretion | S |
| I warn you well he is a passing man ' surpassing extraordinary | D |
| Well ' quoth our Host 'I pray thee tell me than | I |
| Is he a clerk or no Tell what he is ' scholar priest | B2 |
| 'Nay he is greater than a clerk y wis ' certainly | D |
| Saide this Yeoman 'and in wordes few | Z |
| Host of his craft somewhat I will you shew | Z |
| I say my lord can such a subtlety knows | D |
| But all his craft ye may not weet of me learn | Y |
| And somewhat help I yet to his working | A |
| That all the ground on which we be riding | A |
| Till that we come to Canterbury town | C2 |
| He could all cleane turnen up so down | C2 |
| And pave it all of silver and of gold ' | - |
| And when this Yeoman had this tale told | D2 |
| Unto our Host he said 'Ben'dicite | D2 |
| This thing is wonder marvellous to me | D |
| Since that thy lord is of so high prudence | D |
| Because of which men should him reverence | D |
| That of his worship recketh he so lite honour little | H |
| His overest slop it is not worth a mite upper garment | D2 |
| As in effect to him so may I go | A |
| It is all baudy and to tore also slovenly | D |
| Why is thy lord so sluttish I thee pray | E |
| And is of power better clothes to bey buy | H |
| If that his deed accordeth with thy speech | E2 |
| Telle me that and that I thee beseech ' | - |
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| 'Why ' quoth this Yeoman 'whereto ask ye me | D |
| God help me so for he shall never the thrive | F2 |
| But I will not avowe that I say admit | D2 |
| And therefore keep it secret I you pray | E |
| He is too wise in faith as I believe | G2 |
| Thing that is overdone it will not preve stand the test | D2 |
| Aright as clerkes say it is a vice | D |
| Wherefore in that I hold him lewd and nice ' ignorant and foolish | H2 |
| For when a man hath over great a wit | D2 |
| Full oft him happens to misusen it | D2 |
| So doth my lord and that me grieveth sore | I2 |
| God it amend I can say now no more ' | - |
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| 'Thereof no force good Yeoman 'quoth our Host no matter | Q |
| 'Since of the conning of thy lord thou know'st knowledge | J2 |
| Tell how he doth I pray thee heartily | D |
| Since that be is so crafty and so sly wise | D |
| Where dwelle ye if it to telle be ' | - |
| 'In the suburbes of a town ' quoth he | D |
| 'Lurking in hernes and in lanes blind corners | D |
| Where as these robbers and these thieves by kind nature | Q |
| Holde their privy fearful residence | D |
| As they that dare not show their presence | D |
| So fare we if I shall say the soothe ' truth | K2 |
| 'Yet ' quoth our Hoste 'let me talke to thee | D |
| Why art thou so discolour'd of thy face ' | - |
| 'Peter ' quoth he 'God give it harde grace | D |
| I am so us'd the hote fire to blow | A |
| That it hath changed my colour I trow | A |
| I am not wont in no mirror to pry | H |
| But swinke sore and learn to multiply labour | L2 |
| We blunder ever and poren in the fire toil peer | M2 |
| And for all that we fail of our desire | Q |
| For ever we lack our conclusion | S |
| To muche folk we do illusion | S |
| And borrow gold be it a pound or two | Z |
| Or ten or twelve or many summes mo' | D |
| And make them weenen at the leaste way fancy | D |
| That of a pounde we can make tway | Z |
| Yet is it false and aye we have good hope | N2 |
| It for to do and after it we grope search strive | F2 |
| But that science is so far us beforn | S |
| That we may not although we had it sworn | S |
| It overtake it slides away so fast | D2 |
| It will us make beggars at the last ' | - |
| While this Yeoman was thus in his talking | A |
| This Canon drew him near and heard all thing | A |
| Which this Yeoman spake for suspicion | S |
| Of menne's speech ever had this Canon | S |
| For Cato saith that he that guilty is | D |
| Deemeth all things be spoken of him y wis surely | D |
| Because of that he gan so nigh to draw | O2 |
| To his Yeoman that he heard all his saw | O2 |
| And thus he said unto his Yeoman tho then | S |
| 'Hold thou thy peace and speak no wordes mo' | D |
| For if thou do thou shalt it dear abie pay dearly for it | D2 |
| Thou slanderest me here in this company | D |
| And eke discoverest that thou shouldest hide ' | - |
| 'Yea ' quoth our Host 'tell on whatso betide | D2 |
| Of all his threatening reck not a mite ' | - |
| 'In faith ' quoth he 'no more do I but lite ' little | H |
| And when this Canon saw it would not be | D |
| But his Yeoman would tell his privity secrets | D |
| He fled away for very sorrow and shame | D |
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| 'Ah ' quoth the Yeoman 'here shall rise a game some diversion | S |
| All that I can anon I will you tell | H |
| Since he is gone the foule fiend him quell destroy | P2 |
| For ne'er hereafter will I with him meet | D2 |
| For penny nor for pound I you behete promise | D |
| He that me broughte first unto that game | D |
| Ere that he die sorrow have he and shame | D |
| For it is earnest to me by my faith a serious matter | Q |
| That feel I well what so any man saith | D |
| And yet for all my smart and all my grief | M |
| For all my sorrow labour and mischief | Q2 |
Geoffrey Chaucer
(1)
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About The Canon's Yeoman's Tale
The Canon's Yeoman's Tale is a poem by Geoffrey Chaucer. This page includes the poem text, poet information, related topics, comments, and similar poems.
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