The Nun's Priest's Tale Poem Rhyme Scheme and Analysis

Rhyme Scheme: ABCBBBBBDEFCCG HIJCCKKBBCLMMBNOOPPK KBBCC QARKRKRKK ABRKK R RSTTUUVRRVWXYRRSARRX RRAARRRRXZRKZRKKRRZW KBXXBBBBRRXZRRVNAABR A AWWRRRXRX VA2ZRKKRRRRRBBB2R RC2C2NNCCRZRC2RRB

THE PROLOGUEA
'Ho ' quoth the Knight 'good sir no more of thisB
That ye have said is right enough y wis of a suretyC
And muche more for little heavinessB
Is right enough to muche folk I guessB
I say for me it is a great disease source of distress annoyanceB
Where as men have been in great wealth and easeB
To hearen of their sudden fall alasB
And the contrary is joy and great solas delight comfortD
As when a man hath been in poor estateE
And climbeth up and waxeth fortunateF
And there abideth in prosperityC
Such thing is gladsome as it thinketh meC
And of such thing were goodly for to tell 'G
-
'Yea ' quoth our Hoste 'by Saint Paule's bellH
Ye say right sooth this monk hath clapped loud talkedI
He spake how Fortune cover'd with a cloudJ
I wot not what and als' of a tragedyC
Right now ye heard and pardie no remedyC
It is for to bewaile nor complainK
That that is done and also it is painK
As ye have said to hear of heavinessB
Sir Monk no more of this so God you blessB
Your tale annoyeth all this companyC
Such talking is not worth a butterflyL
For therein is there no sport nor gameM
Therefore Sir Monke Dan Piers by your nameM
I pray you heart'ly tell us somewhat elseB
For sickerly n'ere clinking of your bells were it not for theN
That on your bridle hang on every sideO
By heaven's king that for us alle diedO
I should ere this have fallen down for sleepP
Although the slough had been never so deepP
Then had your tale been all told in vainK
For certainly as these clerkes saynK
Where as a man may have no audienceB
Nought helpeth it to telle his sentenceB
And well I wot the substance is in meC
If anything shall well reported beC
Sir say somewhat of hunting lt gt I you pray '-
-
'Nay ' quoth the Monk 'I have no lust to play no fondness forQ
Now let another tell as I have told ' jestingA
Then spake our Host with rude speech and boldR
And said unto the Nunne's Priest anonK
'Come near thou Priest come hither thou Sir John lt gtR
Tell us such thing as may our heartes glade gladdenK
Be blithe although thou ride upon a jadeR
What though thine horse be bothe foul and leanK
If he will serve thee reck thou not a beanK
Look that thine heart be merry evermo' '-
-
'Yes Host ' quoth he 'so may I ride or goA
But I be merry y wis I will be blamed ' unlessB
And right anon his tale he hath attamed commenced lt gtR
And thus he said unto us every oneK
This sweete priest this goodly man Sir JohnK
-
THE TALE lt gtR
-
-
A poor widow somedeal y stept in age somewhat advancedR
Was whilom dwelling in a poor cottageS
Beside a grove standing in a daleT
This widow of which I telle you my taleT
Since thilke day that she was last a wifeU
In patience led a full simple lifeU
For little was her chattel and her rent her goods and her incomeV
By husbandry of such as God her sent thrifty managementR
She found herself and eke her daughters two maintainedR
Three large sowes had she and no mo'V
Three kine and eke a sheep that highte MallW
Full sooty was her bow'r and eke her hall chamberX
In which she ate full many a slender mealY
Of poignant sauce knew she never a deal whitR
No dainty morsel passed through her throatR
Her diet was accordant to her cote in keeping with her cottageS
Repletion her made never sickA
Attemper diet was all her physic moderateR
And exercise and hearte's suffisance contentment of heartR
The goute let her nothing for to dance did not prevent herX
Nor apoplexy shente not her head from dancing hurtR
No wine drank she neither white nor redR
Her board was served most with white and blackA
Milk and brown bread in which she found no lackA
Seind bacon and sometimes an egg or tway singedR
For she was as it were a manner dey kind of day labourer lt gtR
A yard she had enclosed all aboutR
With stickes and a drye ditch withoutR
In which she had a cock hight ChanticleerX
In all the land of crowing n'as his peer was not his equalZ
His voice was merrier than the merry orgon organ lt gtR
On masse days that in the churches gonK
Well sickerer was his crowing in his lodge more punctualZ
Than is a clock or an abbay horloge clock lt gtR
By nature he knew each ascensionK
Of th' equinoctial in thilke townK
For when degrees fiftene were ascendedR
Then crew he that it might not be amendedR
His comb was redder than the fine coralZ
Embattell'd lt gt as it were a castle wallW
His bill was black and as the jet it shoneK
Like azure were his legges and his tone toesB
His nailes whiter than the lily flow'rX
And like the burnish'd gold was his colourX
This gentle cock had in his governanceB
Sev'n hennes for to do all his pleasanceB
Which were his sisters and his paramoursB
And wondrous like to him as of coloursB
Of which the fairest hued in the throatR
Was called Damoselle ParteloteR
Courteous she was discreet and debonairX
And companiable and bare herself so fair sociableZ
Since the day that she sev'n night was oldR
That truely she had the heart in holdR
Of Chanticleer locked in every lith limbV
He lov'd her so that well was him therewithN
But such a joy it was to hear them singA
When that the brighte sunne gan to springA
In sweet accord 'My lefe is fare in land ' lt gt my love isB
For at that time as I have understand gone abroadR
Beastes and birdes coulde speak and singA
-
And so befell that in a daweningA
As Chanticleer among his wives allW
Sat on his perche that was in the hallW
And next him sat this faire ParteloteR
This Chanticleer gan groanen in his throatR
As man that in his dream is dretched sore oppressedR
And when that Partelote thus heard him roarX
She was aghast and saide 'Hearte dear afraidR
What aileth you to groan in this mannereX
Ye be a very sleeper fy for shame '-
And he answer'd and saide thus 'MadameV
I pray you that ye take it not agrief amiss in umbrageA2
By God me mette I was in such mischief I dreamed troubleZ
Right now that yet mine heart is sore affright'R
Now God ' quoth he 'my sweven read aright dream visionK
And keep my body out of foul prisounK
Me mette how that I roamed up and down I dreamedR
Within our yard where as I saw a beastR
Was like an hound and would have made arrest siezedR
Upon my body and would have had me deadR
His colour was betwixt yellow and redR
And tipped was his tail and both his earsB
With black unlike the remnant of his hairsB
His snout was small with glowing eyen twayB2
Yet of his look almost for fear I dey diedR
This caused me my groaning doubteless '-
-
'Away ' lt gt quoth she 'fy on you hearteless cowardR
Alas ' quoth she 'for by that God aboveC2
Now have ye lost my heart and all my loveC2
I cannot love a coward by my faithN
For certes what so any woman saithN
We all desiren if it mighte beC
To have husbandes hardy wise and freeC
And secret and no niggard nor no fool discreetR
Nor him that is aghast of every tool afraid rag trifleZ
Nor no avantour by that God above braggartR
How durste ye for shame say to your loveC2
That anything might make you afear'dR
Have ye no manne's heart and have a beardR
Alas and can ye be aghast of swevenesB

Geoffrey Chaucer



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