Canterbury Tales - Second Nun's Tale

CANTERBURY TALES

by Geoffry Chaucer
The Second Nun's Tale

The Prologe of the Seconde Nonnes Tale.
        The ministre and the norice unto vices,
Which that men clepe in Englissh ydelnesse,
That porter of the gate is of delices,
To eschue, and by hir contrarie hir oppresse -
5 That is to seyn by leveful bisynesse -
Wel oghten we to doon al oure entente,
Lest that the feend thurgh ydelnesse us shente.
For he, that with his thousand cordes slye
Continuelly us waiteth to biclappe,
10 Whan he may man in ydelnesse espye,
He kan so lightly cacche hym in his trappe,
Til that a man be hent right by the lappe,
He nys nat war the feend hath hym in honde.
Wel oghte us werche, and ydelnesse withstonde.
15 And though men dradden nevere for to dye,
Yet seen men wel by resoun, doutelees,
That ydelnesse is roten slogardye,
Of which ther nevere comth no good n'encrees;
And syn that slouthe hir holdeth in a lees,
20 Oonly to slepe, and for to ete and drynke,
And to devouren al that othere swynke.
And for to putte us fro swich ydelnesse,
That cause is of so greet confusioun,
I have heer doon my feithful bisynesse,
25 After the legende, in translacioun
Right of thy glorious lyf and passioun,
Thou with thy gerland wroght with rose and lilie, -
Thee meene I, mayde and martir, Seint Cecilie.

Invocacio ad Mariam

        And thow that flour of virgines art alle,
30 Of whom that Bernard list so wel to write,
To thee at my bigynnyng first I calle,
Thou confort of us wrecches, do me endite
Thy maydens deeth, that wan thurgh hir merite
The eterneel lyf, and of the feend victorie,
35 As man may after reden in hir storie.
Thow Mayde and Mooder, doghter of thy sone,
Thow welle of mercy, synful soules cure,
In whom that God for bountee chees to wone,
Thow humble and heigh, over every creature
40 Thow nobledest so ferforth oure nature,
That no desdeyn the Makere hadde of kynde,
His sone in blood and flessh to clothe and wynde,
Withinne the cloistre blisful of thy sydis
Took mannes shape the eterneel love and pees,
45 That of the tryne compas lord and gyde is,
Whom erthe and see and hevene out of relees
Ay heryen; and thou, Virgine wemmelees,
Baar of thy body - and dweltest mayden pure -
The Creatour of every creature.
50 Assembled is in thee magnificence
With mercy, goodnesse, and with swich pitee
That thou, that art the sonne of excellence,
Nat oonly helpest hem that preyen thee,
But often tyme, of thy benygnytee,
55 Ful frely, er that men thyn help biseche,
Thou goost biforn, and art hir lyves leche.
Now help, thow meeke and blisful faire mayde,
Me, flemed wrecche in this desert of galle;
Thynk on the womman Cananee, that sayde
60 That whelpes eten somme of the crommes alle,
That from hir lordes table been yfalle,
And though that I, unworthy sone of Eve,
By synful, yet accepte my bileve.
And for that feith is deed withouten werkis,
65 So for to werken yif me wit and space,
That I be quit fro thennes that moost derk is.
O thou, that art so fair and ful of grace,
Be myn advocat in that heighe place
Theras withouten ende is songe 'Osanne,'
70 Thow Cristes mooder, doghter deere of Anne!
And of thy light my soule in prison lighte,
That troubled is by the contagioun
Of my body, and also by the wighte
Of erthely lust and fals affeccioun,
75 O havene of refut, O salvacioune
Of hem that been in sorwe and in distresse,
Now help, for to my werk I wol me dresse.
Yet preye I yow that reden that I write,
Foryeve me, that I do no diligence
80 This ilke storie subtilly to endite,
For bothe have I the wordes and sentence
Of hym that at the seintes reverence
The storie wroot, and folwe hir legende.
And pray yow, that ye wole my werk amende.

Interpretacio nominis Cecile quam ponit
Frater Jacobus Januensis in Legenda

85 First wolde I yow the name of seinte Cecilie
Expowne, as men may in hir storie see.
It is to seye in Englissh, `hevenes lilie'
For pure chaastnesse of virginitee,
Or for she whitnesse hadde of honestee
90 And grene of conscience, and of good fame
The soote savour, lilie was hir name.
Or Cecilie is to seye, `the wey to blynde,'
For she ensample was by good techynge;
Or elles, Cecile, as I writen fynde
95 Is joyned by a manere conjoynynge
Of `hevene' and `Lia,' and heere in figurynge
The `hevene' is set for thoght of hoolynesse,
And `Lia' for hir lastynge bisynesse.
Cecile may eek be seyd, in this manere,
100 `Wantynge of blyndnesse,' for hir grete light
Of sapience, and for hire thewes cleere
Or elles, loo, this maydens name bright
Of `hevene' and `leos' comth, for which by right
Men myghte hire wel `the hevene of peple' calle,
105 Ensample of goode and wise werkes alle.
For `leos' `peple' in Englissh is to seye,
And right as men may in the hevene see
The sonne and moone and sterres every weye,
Right so men goostly, in this mayden free,
110 Seyen of feith the magnanymytee,
And eek the cleernesse hool of sapience,
And sondry werkes, brighte of excellence.
And right so as thise philosophres write
That hevene is swift and round and eek brennynge,
115 Right so was faire Cecilie the white
Ful swift and bisy evere in good werkynge,
And round and hool in good perseverynge,
And brennynge evere in charite ful brighte.
Now have I yow declared what she highte.
Explicit
The Prologue of the Second Nun's Tale
That servant and that nurse unto the vices
Which men do call in English Idleness,
Portress at Pleasure's gate, by all advices
We should avoid, and by her foe express,
That is to say, by lawful busyness,
We ought to live with resolute intent,
Lest by the Fiend through sloth we should be rent.
For he, that with his thousand cords and sly
Continually awaits us all to trap,
When he a man in idleness may spy
He easily the hidden snare will snap,
And till the man has met the foul mishap,
He's not aware the Fiend has him in hand;
We ought to work and idleness withstand.
And though men never dreaded they must die,
Yet men see well, by reason, idleness
Is nothing more than rotten sluggardry,
Whereof comes never good one may possess;
And see sloth hold her in a leash, no less,
Only to sleep and eat and always drink
And to absorb all gain of others' swink.
And so, to save us from such idleness
Through which great trouble and distress have grown,
I have here done my faithful busyness,
Translating the old legend, to make known
All of that glorious life which was thine own,
Thou ever with the rose and lily crowned,
Cecilia, for virtues high renowned.

Invocatio ad Mariam

And Thou that art the flower of virgins all
Of whom Saint Bernard loved so well to write,
To Thee at my beginning do I call;
Thou comfort of us wretches, help me indite
Thy maiden's death, who won through her merit
The eternal life, and from the Fiend such glory
As men may read hereafter in her story.
Thou Maid and Mother, Daughter of Thy Son,
Thou well of ruth, of sinful souls the cure,
In Whom, for goodness, God was embryon,
Thou humble One, high over each creature,
Thou did'st ennoble so far our nature
That no disdain God had of humankind
His Son in blood and flesh to clothe and wind.
Within the blessed cloister of Thy sides
Took human shape eternal love and peace
Who all the threefold world as sovereign guides,
Whom earth and sea and heaven, without cease,
Do praise; and Thou, O stainless Maid, increase
Bore of Thy body- and wert kept a maid-
The mighty God Who every creature made.
Assembled is in Thee magnificence,
With mercy, goodness, and with such pity
That Thou, Who art the sun of excellence,
Not only keepest those that pay to Thee,
But oftentimes, of Thy benignity,
Freely, or ever men Thy help beseech,
Thou goest before and art their spirits' leech.
Now help, Thou meek and blessed, Thou fair Maid,
Me, banished wretch, in wilderness of gall;
Think how the Canaanitish woman said
That even dogs may eat of the crumbs all
Which from the master's laden table fall;
And though I, now, unworthy son of Eve,
Am sinful, yet accept me, who believe.
And since all faith is dead divorced from works,
That I may do the right, O give me space
To free me from that darkness of deep murks!
O Thou, Who art so fair and full of grace,
Be Thou my advocate in that high place
Where without ever end is sung "Hosanna,"
Thou, Mother of Christ and daughter of Saint Anna!
And of Thy light my soul illuminate,
That troubled is by the contagion sown
Here in my body, also by the weight
Of earthly lust and false loves I have known;
O haven of refuge, O salvation shown
To those that are in sorrow and distress,
Now help, for to my work I'll me address.
Yet pray I all who read what I do write,
Forgive me that I do no diligence
By subtle change to make the story right;
For I have taken both the words and sense
From him who wrote the tale in reverence
Of this one saint; I follow her legend
And pray you that you will my work amend.

Interpretacio Nominis Caecilie Quam Ponit
Frater Iacobus Ianuensis in Legenda Aurea.

First would I you the name of Saint Cecilia
Expound, as men may in her story see.
It is to say, in English, "Heaven's lily,"
Symbol of pure and virgin chastity;
Or, since she had the white of modesty,
And green of good conscience, and of good fame
The savour sweet, so "lily" was her name.
Or else Cecilia means "path for the blind,"
For she example was, by good teaching;
Or else Cecilia, as I written find,
Is made, after a manner of joining,
Of "Heaven" and "Lia"; and, in figuring,
The "Heaven" is put for "thought of holiness"
And "Lia" for enduring busyness.
Cecilia may mean, too, in this wise,
"Lacking in blindness," for her shining light
Of sapience, and for good qualities;
Or else, behold! this maiden's name so bright
From "Heaven" and "leos" comes, for which, by right,
Men well might her the "Heaven of people" call,
Example of good and wise works unto all.
Leos is folk in English, so to say,
And just as men may in the heavens see
The sun and moon and stars strewn every way,
Just so men ghostly, in this maiden free,
See of her faith the magnanimity,
And the whole glory of her sapience,
And many actions, bright of excellence.
And just as these philosophers do write
That heaven is round and moving and burning,
Just so was fair Cecilia the white
Eager and busy ever in good working,
Large and whole-hearted, steadfast in each thing,
And shining ever in charity full bright;
Now have I told you of her name aright.
Explicit

Here bigynneth the Seconde Nonnes Tale of the lyf of Seinte Cecile
120        This mayden, bright Cecilie, as hir lyf seith,
Was comen of Romayns, and of noble kynde,
And from hir cradel up fostred in the feith
Of Crist, and bar his gospel in hir mynde.
She nevere cessed, as I writen fynde,
125 Of hir preyere, and God to love and drede,
Bisekynge hym to kepe hir maydenhede.
And whan this mayden sholde unto a man
Ywedded be, that was ful yong of age,
Which that ycleped was Valerian,
130 And day was comen of hir mariage,
She, ful devout and humble in hir corage,
Under hir robe of gold, that sat ful faire,
Hadde next hir flessh yclad hir in an haire.
And whil the organs maden melodie,
135 To God allone in herte thus sang she:
"O Lord, my soule and eek my body gye
Unwemmed, lest that I confounded be."
And, for his love that dyde upon a tree,
Every seconde and thridde day she faste,
140 Ay biddynge in hir orisons ful faste.
The nyght cam, and to bedde moste she gon
With hir housbonde, as ofte is the manere,
And pryvely to hym she seyde anon,
"O sweete and wel biloved spouse deere,
145 Ther is a conseil, and ye wolde it heere,
Which that right fayn I wolde unto yow seye,
So that ye swere ye shul me nat biwreye."
        Valerian gan faste unto hire swere
That for no cas, ne thyng that myghte be,
150 He sholde nevere mo biwreyen here,
And thanne at erst to hym thus seyde she,
"I have an aungel which that loveth me,
That with greet love, wher so I wake or sleepe,
Is redy ay my body for to kepe.
155 And if that he may feelen, out of drede
That ye me touche, or love in vileynye,
He right anon wol sle yow with the dede,
And in youre yowthe thus ye sholden dye.
And if that ye in clene love me gye,
160 He wol yow loven as me for youre clennesse,
And shewen yow his joye and his brightnesse."
        Valerian, corrected as God wolde,
Answerde agayn, "If I shal trusten thee,
Lat me that aungel se, and hym biholde,
165 And if that it a verray aungel bee,
Thanne wol I doon as thou hast prayed me;
And if thou love another man, forsothe
Right with this swerd thanne wol I sle yow bothe."
Cecile answerde anon right in this wise,
170 "If that yow list, the aungel shul ye see,
So that ye trowe in Crist, and yow baptize.
Gooth forth to Via Apia," quod she,
"That fro this toun ne stant but miles thre;
And to the povre folkes that ther dwelle
175 Sey hem right thus as that I shal yow telle.
Telle hem, that I Cecile yow to hem sente,
To shewen yow the goode Urban the olde,
For secree thynges and for good entente;
And whan that ye Seint Urban han biholde,
180 Telle hym the wordes whiche that I to yow tolde,
And whan that he hath purged yow fro synne,
Thanne shul ye se that aungel er ye twynne."
        Valerian is to the place ygon,
And right as hym was taught by his lernynge,
185 He foond this hooly olde Urban anon
Among the seintes buryeles lotynge.
And he anon, withouten tariynge,
Dide his message, and whan that he it tolde,
Urban for joye his handes gan up holde.
190 The teeris from hise eyen leet he falle.
"Almyghty lord, O Jesu Crist," quod he,
"Sower of chaast conseil, hierde of us alle,
The fruyt of thilke seed of chastitee
That thou hast sowe in Cecile, taak to thee.
195 Lo, lyk a bisy bee, withouten gile,
Thee serveth ay thyn owene thral Cecile!
For thilke spouse that she took but now
Ful lyk a fiers leoun, she sendeth heere
As meke as evere was any lomb, to yow."
200 And with that word anon ther gan appeere
An oold man clad in white clothes cleere,
That hadde a book with lettre of gold in honde,
And gan bifore Valerian to stonde.
Valerian as deed fil doun for drede
205 Whan he hym saugh, and he up hente hym tho,
And on his book right thus he gan to rede,
"O lord, o feith, o God, withouten mo,
O Cristendom, and fader of alle also,
Aboven alle, and over alle, everywhere."
210 Thise wordes al with gold ywriten were.
Whan this was rad, thanne seyde this olde man,
"Leevestow this thyng or no? sey ye or nay?"
"I leeve al this thyng," quod Valerian,
"For sother thyng than this, I dar wel say,
215 Under the hevene no wight thynke may."
Tho vanysshed this olde man, he nyste where;
And Pope Urban hym cristned right there.
        Valerian gooth hoom, and fynt Cecile
Withinne his chambre with an aungel stonde.
220 This aungel hadde of roses and of lilie
Corones two, the whiche he bar in honde;
And first to Cecile, as I understonde,
He yaf that oon, and after gan he take
That oother to Valerian hir make.
225 "With body clene and with unwemmed thoght
Kepeth ay wel thise corones," quod he,
"Fro Paradys to yow have I hem broght,
Ne nevere mo ne shal they roten bee,
Ne lese hir soote savour, trusteth me,
230 Ne nevere wight shal seen hem with his eye
But he be chaast and hate vileynye.
And thow Valerian, for thow so soone
Assentedest to good conseil also,
Sey what thee list, and thou shalt han thy boone."
235 "I have a brother," quod Valerian tho,
"That in this world I love no man so.
I pray yow that my brother may han grace,
To knowe the trouthe, as I do in this place."
        The aungel seyde, "God liketh thy requeste,
240 And bothe with the palm of martirdom
Ye shullen com unto his blisful feste."
And with that word Tiburce his brother coom;
And whan that he the savour undernoom,
Which that the roses and the lilies caste,
245 Withinne his herte he gan to wondre faste,
And seyde, "I wondre, this tyme of the yeer,
Whennes that soote savour cometh so
Of rose and lilies that I smelle heer.
For though I hadde hem in myne handes two,
250 The savour myghte in me no depper go,
The sweete smel that in myn herte I fynde
Hath chaunged me al in another kynde."
        Valerian seyde, "Two corones han we,
Snow white and rose reed that shynen cleere,
255 Whiche that thyne eyen han no myght to see,
And as thou smellest hem thurgh my preyere,
So shaltow seen hem, leeve brother deere,
If it so be thou wolt, withouten slouthe,
Bileve aright and knowen verray trouthe."
260        Tiburce answerde, "Seistow this to me?
In soothnesse or in dreem I herkne this?"
"In dremes," quod Valerian, "han we be
Unto this tyme, brother myn, ywes;
But now at erst in trouthe oure dwellyng is."
265 "How woostow this," quod Tiburce, "in what wyse?"
Quod Valerian, "That shal I thee devyse.
        The aungel of God hath me the trouthe ytaught
Which thou shalt seen, if that thou wolt reneye
The ydoles and be clene, and elles naught."
270 And of the myracle of thise corones tweye
Seint Ambrose in his preface list to seye.
Solempnely this noble doctour deere
Commendeth it, and seith in this manere:
        "The palm of martirdom for to receyve
275 Seinte Cecile, fulfild of Goddes yifte,
The world and eek hire chambre gan she weyve,
Witnesse Tyburces and Valerians shrifte,
To whiche God of his bountee wolde shifte
Corones two, of floures wel smellynge,
280 And made his aungel hem the corones brynge.
The mayde hath broght thise men to blisse above;
The world hath wist what it is worth, certeyn,
Devocioun of chastitee to love."
Tho shewed hym Cecile, al open and pleyn,
285 That alle ydoles nys but a thyng in veyn,
For they been dombe and therto they been deve,
And charged hym hise ydoles for to leve.
"Whoso that troweth, nat this, a beest he is,"
Quod tho Tiburce, "if that I shal nat lye."
290 And she gan kisse his brest, that herde this,
And was ful glad he koude trouthe espye.
"This day I take thee for myn allye,"
Seyde this blisful faire mayde deere,
And after that she seyde as ye may heere.
295        "Lo, right so as the love of Crist," quod she,
"Made me thy brotheres wyf, right in that wise
Anon for myn allyee heer take I thee,
Syn that thou wolt thyne ydoles despise.
Go with thy brother now, and thee baptise,
300 And make thee clene, so that thou mowe biholde
The aungels face of which thy brother tolde."
        Tiburce answerde and seyde, "Brother deere,
First tel me whider I shal, and to what man?"
"To whom?" quod he, "com forth with right good cheere,
305 I wol thee lede unto the Pope Urban."
"Til Urban? Brother myn Valerian,"
Quod tho Tiburce, "woltow me thider lede?
Me thynketh that it were a wonder dede."
"Ne menestow nat Urban," quod he tho,
310 "That is so ofte dampned to be deed,
And woneth in halkes alwey to and fro,
And dar nat ones putte forth his heed;
Men sholde hym brennen in a fyr so reed,
If he were founde, or that men myghte hym spye;
315 And we also, to bere hym compaignye,
And whil we seken thilke divinitee,
That is yhid in hevene pryvely,
Algate ybrend in this world shul we be!"
To whom Cecile answerde boldely,
320 "Men myghten dreden wel and skilfully
This lyf to lese, myn owene deere brother,
If this were lyvynge oonly and noon oother.
But ther is bettre lyf in oother place,
That nevere shal be lost, ne drede thee noght,
325 Which Goddes Sone us tolde thurgh his grace.
That fadres sone hath alle thyng ywroght,
And al that wroght is with a skilful thoght,
The goost, that fro the Fader gan procede,
Hath sowled hem, withouten any drede.
330 By word and by myracel Goddes Sone,
Whan he was in this world, declared heere
That ther was oother lyf ther men may wone."
To whom answerde Tiburce, "O suster deere,
Ne seydestow right now in this manere,
335 Ther nys but o God, lord in soothfastnesse,
And now of thre how maystow bere witnesse?"
        "That shal I telle," quod she, "er I go.
Right as a man hath sapiences thre,
Memorie, engyn, and intellect also,
340 So, in o beynge of divinitee
Thre persones may ther right wel bee."
Tho gan she hym ful bisily to preche
Of Cristes come, and of hise peynes teche,
And many pointes of his passioun;
345 How Goddes Sone in this world was withholde
To doon mankynde pleyn remissioun,
That was ybounde in synne and cares colde;
Al this thyng she unto Tiburce tolde;
And after this, Tiburce in good entente
350 With Valerian to Pope Urban he wente;
That thanked God, and with glad herte and light
He cristned hym, and made hym in that place
Parfit in his lernynge, Goddes knyght.
And after this Tiburce gat swich grace
355 That every day he saugh in tyme and space
The aungel of God, and every maner boone
That he God axed, it was sped ful soone.
        It were ful hard by ordre for to seyn
How manye wondres Jesu for hem wroghte.
360 But atte laste, to tellen short and pleyn,
The sergeantz of the toun of Rome hem soghte,
And hem biforn Almache the Prefect broghte,
Which hem apposed, and knew al hire entente,
And to the ymage of Juppiter hem sente,
365 And seyde, "Whoso wol nat sacrifise,
Swap of his heed, this my sentence heer."
Anon thise martirs that I yow devyse,
Oon Maximus, that was an officer
Of the prefectes, and his corniculer,
370 Hem hente, and whan he forth the seintes ladde,
Hymself he weep, for pitee that he hadde.
Whan Maximus had herd the seintes loore,
He gat hym of the tormentoures leve,
And ladde hem to his hous withoute moore.
375 And with hir prechyng, er that it were eve,
They gonnen fro the tormentours to reve,
And fro Maxime, and fro his folk echone
The fals feith, to trowe in God allone.
        Cecile cam whan it was woxen nyght,
380 With preestes that hem cristned alle yfeere,
And afterward, whan day was woxen light,
Cecile hem seyde, with a ful stedefast cheere,
"Now Cristes owene knyghtes, leeve and deere,
Cast alle awey the werkes of derknesse
385 And armeth yow in armure of brightnesse.
Ye han for sothe ydoon a greet bataille,
Youre cours is doon, youre feith han ye conserved,
Gooth to the corone of lyf that may nat faille.
The rightful juge which that ye han served
390 Shal yeve it yow as ye han it deserved."
And whan this thyng was seyd as I devyse,
Men ledde hem forth to doon the sacrifise.
But whan they weren to the place broght,
To tellen shortly the conclusioun,
395 They nolde encense ne sacrifise right noght,
But on hir knees they setten hem adoun
With humble herte and sad devocioun,
And losten bothe hir hevedes in the place.
Hir soules wenten to the kyng of grace.
400 This Maximus that saugh this thyng bityde,
With pitous teeris tolde it anon-right,
That he hir soules saugh to hevene glyde
With aungels ful of cleernesse and of light;
And with this word converted many a wight;
405 For which Almachius dide hym so bete
With whippe of leed, til he the lyf gan lete.
        Cecile hym took, and buryed hym anon
By Tiburce and Valerian softely,
Withinne hir buriyng place, under the stoon,
410 And after this Almachius hastily
Bad his ministres fecchen openly
Cecile, so that she myghte in his presence
Doon sacrifice, and Juppiter encense.
But they, converted at hir wise loore,
415 Wepten ful soore, and yaven ful credence
Unto hire word, and cryden moore and moore,
"Crist, Goddes sone, withouten difference,
Is verray God - this is al oure sentence -
That hath so good a servant hym to serve.
420 This with o voys we trowen, thogh we sterve."
        Almachius, that herde of this doynge,
Bad fecchen Cecile, that he myghte hir see,
And alderfirst, lo, this was his axynge:
"What maner womman artow?" tho quod he.
425 "I am a gentil womman born," quod she.
"I axe thee," quod he, "though it thee greeve,
Of thy religioun and of thy bileeve."
        "Ye han bigonne youre question folily,"
Quod she, "that wolden two answeres conclude
430 In o demande; ye axed lewedly."
Almache answerde unto that similitude,
"Of whennes comth thyn answeryng so rude?'
"Of whennes?" quod she, whan that she was freyned,
"Of conscience and of good feith unfeyned."
435        Almachius seyde, "Ne takestow noon heede
Of my power?" And she answerde hym this:
"Youre myght," quod she, "ful litel is to dreede,
For every mortal mannes power nys
But lyke a bladdre ful of wynd, ywys;
440 For with a nedles poynt, whan it is blowe,
May al the boost of it be leyd ful lowe."
        "Ful wrongfully bigonne thow," quod he,
"And yet in wrong is thy perseveraunce;
Wostow nat how oure myghty princes free
445 Han thus comanded and maad ordinaunce
That every cristen wight shal han penaunce,
But if that he his cristendom withseye-
And goon al quit, if he wole it reneye?"
        "Youre princes erren, as youre nobleye dooth,"
450 Quod tho Cecile, "and with a wood sentence
Ye make us gilty, and it is nat sooth,
For ye, that knowen wel oure innocence,
For as muche as we doon a reverence
To Crist, and for we bere a cristen name,
455 Ye putte on us a cryme, and eek a blame.
But we that knowen thilke name so
For vertuous, we may it nat withseye."
Almache answerde, "Chees oon of thise two,
Do sacrifise, or cristendom reneye,
460 That thou mowe now escapen by that weye."
At which the hooly blisful faire mayde
Gan for to laughe, and to the juge sayde,
        "O Juge, confus in thy nycetee,
Woltow that I reneye innocence,
465 To make me a wikked wight," quod shee;
"Lo, he dissymuleth heere in audience,
He stareth, and woodeth in his advertence."
To whom Almachius, "Unsely wrecche,
Ne woostow nat how far my myght may strecche?
470 Han noght oure myghty princes to me yeven
Ye, bothe power and auctoritee
To maken folk to dyen or to lyven?
Why spekestow so proudly thanne to me?"
"I speke noght but stedfastly," quod she,
475 "Nat proudly, for I speke as for my syde,
We haten deedly thilke vice of pryde.
And if thou drede nat a sooth to heere,
Thanne wol I shewe al openly by right
That thou hast maad a ful grete lesyng heere,
480 Thou seyst, thy princes han thee yeven myght
Bothe for to sleen, and for to quyken a wight.
Thou that ne mayst but oonly lyf bireve,
Thou hast noon oother power, ne no leve!
But thou mayst seyn thy princes han thee maked
485 Ministre of deeth, for if thou speke of mo,
Thou lyest, for thy power is ful naked."
"Do wey thy booldnesse," seyde Almachius tho,
"And sacrifise to oure goddes er thou go.
I recche nat what wrong that thou me profre,
490 For I can suffre it as a philosophre.
        But thilke wronges may I nat endure
That thou spekest of oure goddes heere," quod he.
Cecile answerde, "O nyce creature,
Thou seydest no word, syn thou spak to me,
495 That I ne knew therwith thy nycetee,
And that thou were in every maner wise
A lewed officer and a veyn justise.
Ther lakketh no thyng to thyne outter yen
That thou nart blynd, for thyng that we seen alle
500 That it is stoon - that men may wel espyen -
That ilke stoon a god thow wolt it calle.
I rede thee lat thyn hand upon it falle,
And taste it wel, and stoon thou shalt it fynde,
Syn that thou seest nat with thyne eyen blynde.
505 It is a shame that the peple shal
So scorne thee, and laughe at thy folye;
For communly men woot it wel overal
That myghty God is in hise hevenes hye,
And thise ymages, wel thou mayst espye,
510 To thee ne to hemself mowen noght profite,
For in effect they been nat worth a myte."
        Thise wordes and swiche othere seyde she,
And he weex wrooth, and bad men sholde hir lede
Hom til hir hous, and "in hire hous," quod he,
515 "Brenne hire right in a bath of flambes rede."
And as he bad, right so was doon in dede,
For in a bath they gonne hire faste shetten,
And nyght and day greet fyre they underbetten.
        The longe nyght and eek a day also
520 For al the fyr and eek the bathes heete
She sat al coold, and feelede no wo;
It made hire nat a drope for to sweete.
But in that bath hir lyf she moste lete,
For he Almachius, with a ful wikke entente,
525 To sleen hir in the bath his sonde sente.
Thre strokes in the nekke he smoot hir tho,
The tormentour, but for no maner chaunce
He myghte noght smyte al hir nekke atwo.
And for ther was that tyme an ordinaunce
530 That no man sholde doon men swich penaunce
The ferthe strook to smyten, softe or soore,
This tormentour ne dorste do namoore.
But half deed, with hir nekke ycorven there,
He lefte hir lye, and on his wey is went.
535 The Cristen folk, which that aboute hir were,
With sheetes han the blood ful faire yhent.
Thre dayes lyved she in this torment,
And nevere cessed hem the feith to teche;
That she hadde fostred, hem she gan to preche.
540 And hem she yaf hir moebles, and hir thyng,
And to the Pope Urban bitook hem tho,
And seyde, "I axed this at hevene kyng
To han respit thre dayes, and namo,
To recomende to yow er that I go
545 Thise soules, lo, and that I myghte do werche
Heere of myn hous perpetuelly a chirche."
        Seint Urban with hise deknes prively
This body fette, and buryed it by nyghte,
Among hise othere seintes, honestly.
550 Hir hous the chirche of Seinte Cecilie highte;
Seint Urban halwed it, as he wel myghte,
In which, into this day, in noble wyse
Men doon to Crist and to his seinte servyse.
Heere is ended the Seconde Nonnes Tale
Here begins the Second Nun's Tale of the life of Saint Cecelia
This maiden bright, Cecilia, her life saith,
Was Roman born and of a noble kind,
And from the cradle tutored in the faith
Of Christ, and bore His gospel in her mind;
She never ceased, as written do I find,
To pray to God, and love Him, and to dread,
Beseeching Him to keep her maidenhead.
And when this maiden must unto a man
Be wedded, who was a young man in age,
And who had to his name Valerian,
And when the day was come for her marriage,
She, meek of heart, devout, and ever sage,
Under her robe of gold, well-made and fair,
Had next her body placed a shirt of hair.
And while the organ made its melody,
To God alone within her heart sang she:
"O Lord, my soul and body guide to The
Unsoiled, lest I in spirit ruined be."
And for His love Who died upon a tree,
Each second or third day she used to fast,
And ever prayed she till the day was past.
The night came, and to bed she must be gone
With her young husband, but she had no fear,
And privately to him she said anon:
"O sweet and well-beloved spouse so dear,
There is a secret, if you will to hear,
Which I am fain enough to you to say,
So that you swear that me you'll not betray."
Valerian to her his oath did swear
That evermore, whatever thing might be,
He never would betray what she said there
And so beginning straightway thus said she:
"I have an angel lover that loves me,
And with a great love, whether I wake or sleep,
He will my body ever guard and keep.
"And if he feels (and this is truth," she said)
"That you will touch or love me vulgarly,
At once he'll slay and leave you with the dead,
And in your days of youth thus shall you die;
And if you love me cleanly, so say I,
He'll love you as now me, for your cleanness,
And show you all his joy and his brightness."
Valerian, checked thus as God would mould,
Replied: "If I'm to trust you, let me see
That angel with my eyes and him behold;
And if that it a very angel be,
Then will I do as you have asked of me;
And if you love another man, forsooth
Right with this sword then will I slay you both."
Cecilia replied right in this wise:
"If you so wish, that angel shall you see,
So you believe in Christ and you baptize.
Go forth to Via Appia," said she,
"That from this town is distant but miles three,
And to the poor folk who in that place dwell
Say to them what I'll now proceed to tell.
"Tell them that I, Cecilia, have sent
You to the good man Urban, who is old,
For secret need, and with a good intent.
And when this holy Urban you behold,
Tell him the thing that I to you have told;
And when he shall have purged you of your sin,
That angel shall you see ere thence you win."
Valerian to that place got him gone,
And just as he'd been told about the thing,
He found this ancient saint, Urban, anon,
Among the holy catacombs lurking.
And he anon, with never tarrying,
Told him his errand; and when it was told,
Urban for joy his two hands did uphold.
Some teardrops from his two eyes he let fall-
"Almighty Lord, O Jesus Christ," said he,
"Sower of counsel chaste, herd of us all,
The fruit of that same seed of chastity
Which Thou sowed'st in Cecilia, take to Thee!
Lo, like a busy bee, and without guile,
Thy thrall Cecilia serves Thee all the while!
"For that same spouse that lately wedded she,
Who was like lion fierce, she sends him here,
As meek as ever was a lamb, to Thee!"
And with that word anon there did appear
An old, old man, clothed all in white clothes clear,
Who had a golden-lettered book in hand,
And who before Valerian did stand.
Valerian for fear fell down as dead
When him he saw, who raised him from the floor,
And from his book (whereof I told) he read-
"One Lord, one faith, one God with never more,
One Christian Church, One Father of all to adore,
Above all, over all, and everywhere"-
These words in very gold were written there.
When this was read, then said the ancient man:
"Do you believe or not? Say 'Yea' or 'Nay."'
"I do believe this," said Valerian,
"For truer thing than this, I dare well say,
Under the heavens none can think, nor may."
Then vanished the old man, he knew not where,
And Pope Urban baptized him even there.
Valerian, going home, Cecilia found
In chamber, wherein did an angel stand;
This angel had two coronals, woven round
Of roses and of lilies, in his hand;
And to Cecilia, as I understand,
He gave the one, and gave the other straight
Unto this said Valerian, her mate.
"With body clean and with unsullied thought
Keep well these crowns for ever," then said he;
"To you from Paradise have I them brought,
Nor ever shall they fade or withered be,
Nor lose their perfume sweet, so you trust me;
And never man shall see them with his eye,
Save he be chaste and hate depravity.
"And you, Valerian, since you so soon
Consented to accept the Faith also,
Say what you will and you shall have your boon."
"I have a brother," said Valerian, "Oh,
And in the wide world I love no man so.
I pray you that my brother may have grace
To know the truth, as I do in this place."
The angel answered: "God likes your request,
And both of you, with palm of martyrdom,
Shall come at last unto His blessed rest."
Whereon his brother Tibertius was come.
And when he smelled the sweet perfume that from
The roses and the lilies filled the air,
In heart he wondered much how came it there,
And said: "I wonder much, this time of year,
Whence comes the sweetness that arises so,
Of rose and lily, to my senses here?
For though I held them in my two hands- no
The savour could in me no deeper go.
The gentle scent that in my heart I find
Has changed me to a man of other kind."
Valerian replied: "Two crowns have we,
Snow white and rose red, and they're bright and fair,
The which your two eyes have no power to see;
And as you smell them, brother, through my prayer,
So shall you see them also, brother dear,
If you but will, without delay forsooth,
Rightly believe and know the very truth."
Tibertius answered: "Say you this to me
In truth? Or do I dream I hear all this?"
"In dreams," replied Valerian, then, "have we
Lived to this time, O brother mine, ywis.
In truth now for the first time our life is."
"How know you?" asked Tibertius: "In what wise?"
Valerian said: "You will I now apprise.
"God's angel unto me the truth has taught,
Which you shall see, if only you'll put by
All idols and be clean, else you'll learn naught."
(And of these crowns miraculous, say I,
Saint Ambrose of the two does testify
In his Preface; this noble doctor dear
Commends the story, making it all clear:
The palm of martyrdom, thus to receive,
This Saint Cecilia, filled with God's gift,
The world and even her chamber did she leave;
Witness Tibertius' and Valerian's shrift,
To whom the good God sent by angel swift
Two crowns of flowers fair and sweet smelling,
And bade the angel take them as fitting.
The maiden brought these men to bliss above;
The world has learned what it is worth, 'tis plain,
Devotion to fair chastity to love.)
Then did Cecilia show him and explain
That every idol is a thing all vain;
For they are dumb, and they are deaf also,
And charged him that his idols he forgo.
"Whoso believes not this, a beast he is,"
Said then Tibertius, "if I shall not lie."
And then she kissed his breast, when she heard this,
And was full glad that truth he could espy.
"This day I take you for my own ally,"
So said this blessed, lovely maiden dear;
And after that said on as you shall hear:
"Lo, even as the love of Christ," said she,
"Made me your brother's wife, just in that wise
I take you now my close ally to be,
Since you'll forgo your idols and despise.
Go with your brother, let them you baptize
And make you clean; so that you may behold
The angel's face whereof your brother told."
Tibertius answered, saying: "Brother dear,
First tell me where to go and to what man."
"To whom?" said he, "Come forth, and with good cheer,
For I will lead you unto Pope Urban."
"To Urban? Brother mine, Valerian,
Tibertius said, "and thither will you lead?
I think this were a wondrous thing indeed.
"Surely you mean not Urban!" he cried out,
"Who's been so often ordered to be dead,
And lives in corners, dodging ever about,
And dares not once by day to show his head?
Why, men would burn him in a fire right red
If he were found, or any him could spy;
And us, if we should bear him company.
"And while we seek for that Divinity
Who is in Heaven where we may not see,
Burned in this world to ashes shall we be!"
To whom Cecilia answered, and boldly:
"Men might well dread, and very reasonably,
This life on earth to lose, my own dear brother,
If this alone were living, and no other.
"But there's a better life in other place,
That never shall be lost, nay, fear you naught,
Whereof God's Son has told us, through His grace;
That Father's Son all things that He has wrought,
And all that is has made with reasoned thought,
The Spirit which from Father did proceed
Has given a soul to each, fear not indeed.
"By word and miracle God's only Son,
When He was in this world, declared us here
There was another life that could be won."
To whom replied Tibertius: "Sister dear,
Did you not say, just now, in manner clear,
There's but one God, the Lord in truth, no less;
And now to three, how can you bear witness?"
"That will I tell," said she, "before I go.
Just as a man has kinds of wisdom three,
Memory, genius, intellect also,
So in one Being of Divinity
three Persons, truly may there right well be."
Then she to him full earnestly did preach
Of Jesus' coming, and of His pain did teach,
And many points His agony had shown:
How God's Son in this world a time did hold
To man a full remission to make known,
Who had been bound in sin and care of old:
All these things to Tibertius first she told.
And then Tibertius, with a good intent,
He with Valerian to Pope Urban went,
Who thanked God; and with a glad heart and light
He christened him, and made him in that place
Perfect in knowledge, and God's very knight.
And after this Tibertius got such grace
That every day he saw, in time and space,
God's angel; aye, and every kind of boon
He asked of God, the same was granted soon.
'Twere hard in proper order to explain
How many wonders Jesus for them wrought;
But at the last, to tell it short and plain,
They by the sergeants of Rome town were sought,
And to Almachius the prefect brought,
Who questioned them and learned their whole intent,
And unto Jupiter's image had them sent,
Saying: "Who will not go and sacrifice,
Strike off his head, that is my sentence here."
These martyrs, then, of whom I do apprise,
One Maximus, who was an officer
Of the prefect's, and his corniculer,
Took them; and when the saints forth he had led,
Himself he wept, for pity that he had.
When Maximus had learned their creed and lore,
Of executioners obtained he leave,
And to his house he led them, without more;
And by their preaching, ere it came to eve,
They from the executioners did reave,
And Maximus and from his folk, each one,
The false faith, to believe in God alone.
Cecilia came, when it was fully night,
With priests, who christened them together there;
And afterward, when day came with its light,
Cecilia them bade, with steadfast cheer:
"Now Christ's own knights together, lief and dear,
The works of darkness cast you all away,
And arm you in the armour of the day.
"You have indeed fought the good fight- all hail!
Your course is done, your faith you have preserved,
Go to the crown of life that shall not fail;
The Righteous judge, Whom you have so well served,
Will give it to you, since you've it deserved."
And when, as I have told this thing was said,
To make the sacrifice they forth were led.
But when before the image they were brought,
Briefly to tell the end as it is known,
They'd not incense, and sacrificed they naught,
But on their knees they reverently knelt down,
With humble heart and firm devotion shown,
And so they lost their heads there in that place.
Their spirits went unto the King of Grace.
This Maximus, who saw this thing betide,
With pitying tears he told folk then, forthright.
That he their souls had seen to Heaven glide
With angels full of glory and of light,
And by his words converted many a wight;
For which Almachius had him beaten so,
With whips of lead, he did his life forgo.
Cecilia him buried with the others,
Valerian and Tibertius, quietly.
Thus in the tomb he rested with the brothers;
And after this Almachius speedily
Ordered his servants fetch him openly
Cecilia, that she might in his presence
Make sacrifice to Jove and burn incense.
But since they were converted by her lore,
They wept, and to a full belief they came
In what she said, and cried out more and more,
"O Christ, God's Son, Whose substance is the same,
Thou'rt very God, and blessed be Thy name,
Who hast so good a servant Thee to serve;
This with one voice we say, nor will we swerve."
Almachius, who heard of this same thing,
Commanded that they bring her him to see,
And when she came, this was his questioning:
"What manner of woman are you?" then asked he.
"I am a noblewoman born," said she.
"I ask," said he, "though to your harm and grief,
Of your religion and of your belief."
"You have begun your questions foolishly,"
Said she, "who would two answers so include
In one demand; you asked me ignorantly."
Almachius answered that exactitude:
"Whence comes your answering so rough and rude?"
"Whence?" asked she, when that she was thus constrained,
"From conscience and from simple faith unfeigned."
Almachius said: "And do you take no heed
Of power I wield?" And she replied like this:
"Your might," said she, "is scarce a thing to dread;
For power of every mortal man but is
Like to a bladder full of wind, ywis.
For with a needle's point, when it is blown,
Prick it, and all the pride of it comes down."
"Erroneously have you begun," said he,
"And deep in error do you still remain;
Know you not how our mighty princes free
Have ordered us such error to restrain,
That every Christian man shall suffer pain,
Unless his Christianity he deny?
He shall be free if he'll do that, say I."
"Your princes err, and your nobility,"
Cecilia said, "and with a mad sentence
Condemn our guilt all guiltless though we be;
And you, who know full well our innocence,
Merely because we do our. reverence
To Christ and bear ourselves the Christian name,
You thus impute to us a crime and blame.
"But we, who know far better than can you
Its virtue, will not once the name gainsay."
Almachius said: "Choose one of these things two:
Deny that faith, or sacrifice today,
That you may now escape from death that way."
Whereat the holy, blessed, lovely maid
Began to laugh, and to the judge she said:
"O judge, convicted by your own folly,
Will you that I deny my innocence
And make myself a criminal?" asked she.
"Lo, he dissimulates in audience,
He glares and rages in his violence!"
To whom Almachius: "O unhappy wretch,
Do you not know how far my might may stretch?
"Did not our mighty princes to me give,
Aye, both the power and authority
To give to people death or make them live?
Why do you speak so proudly then to me?"
"I speak to you but steadfastly," said she,
"Not proudly, for I say, upon my side,
We've deadly hatred for the vice of pride.
"And if to hear a truth you do not fear,
Then will I show, all openly, by right,
That you have said a full great falsehood here.
You say, your princes have you given the might
Both to condemn and give life to a wight;
But you can merely him of life bereave,
You have no other power or other leave!
"You may but say, your princes did declare
You were death's officer; if more you claim,
You lie, for of more power you are bare."
"This bold speech drop!" Almachius did exclaim,
"And do your sacrifice in our gods' name.
I care not what you wrongfully impute;
Like a philosopher I'll bear it, mute;
"But those same wrongs which I cannot endure
Are those you speak against our gods," said he.
Cecilia replied: "O vain creature,
You've nothing said, since speaking first to me,
That I've not learned thereby your great folly,
And that you were and are, in every wise,
An ignorant officer and vain justice.
"There is no proving, by your outward eye,
That you're not blind; what can be seen by all,
That it is stone- that men see well, say I-
Yet that same stone a god you think and call.
I charge you, let your hand upon it fall,
And test it well, and 'twill be stone, you'll find,
Since you can see it not with your eyes blind.
"It is a shame that all the people shall
So scorn you, judge, and laugh at your folly;
For commonly men know it above all
That mighty God is in His heaven high,
And idols such as these, they testify,
May bring no profit to themselves or you-
They have no power, nothing can they do."
These words and many other such said she,
And he grew wroth and bade she should be led
Home to her house. "And in her house," said he,
"Boil her in bath heated by great flames red."
And as he bade, so was it done, 'tis said;
For in a bath they locked her and began
(All night and day) a great fire there to fan.
The long night through, and a long day also,
For all the fire and all the bath's great heat,
She sat there cool and calm and felt no woe,
Nor did it make her any drop to sweat.
But in that bath her life should she lose yet;
For he, Almachius, with bad intent,
To slay her in the bath his headsman sent.
The executioner three times her smote
Upon the neck, and could not strike again,
Although he failed to cut in two her throat,
For at that time the ordinance was plain
That no man might another give the pain
Of striking four blows, whether soft or sore;
This executioner dared do no more.
But half dead, with her neck cut three times there,
He let her lie, and on his way he went.
The Christian folk that all about her were,
With sheets caught up the precious blood she spent;
And three days lived she in this same torment,
But never ceased at all the faith to teach,
That she had fostered; dying did she preach;
To them she gave her goods and everything,
And of Pope Urban put them in the care,
And said: "This much I asked of Heaven's King,
A respite of three days, that you might share
With me these souls; and too I would prepare
Before I go my house a church to make,
That it be kept forever for my sake."
Saint Urban, with his deacons, privately,
The body took and buried it by night
Among his other saints, right honourably.
Her house is Church of Saint Cecilia hight;
Saint Urban hallowed it, as well he might;
Wherein in noble wise unto this day
To Christ and to His saint men service pay.
Here ends the Second Nun's Tale

Continue on to the Canon's Yeoman's Tale
Return to the Table of Contents
Return to List of Authors and Books