The Canterbury Tales of Geoffrey Chaucer/Physician’s Tale

3684068The Physician’s TaleGeoffrey Chaucer

The Physician's Tale

Here followeth the Physician's Tale.

THERE was once, as Titus Livius telleth, a knight called Virginius, full of honour and worthiness, strong in his friends and of great wealth. This knight had by his wife a daughter ; no children more had he in all his days. In excellent beauty, this maid was fair above every wight that men may see; for Nature with sovereign care hath formed her in so great excellence as though she would say: "Lo! I, Nature, thus can I form and paint a breathing being when I list ; who can imitate me? Not Pygmalion, though aye he forge and beat, or grave, or paint; for I dare well say that Apelles and Zeuxis should work in vain if they presumed to imitate me by graving or painting or forging or beating. For he that is the chief Creator hath made me his vicar-general to form and paint earthly creatures even as I list, and each thing under the moon that waxeth and waneth is in my care, and for my work I will ask nothing; my lord and I be fully of one accord. For the worship of my sovereign I made her; so do I all my other creatures, whatsoever colour or shape they have." Thus it seemeth me Nature would say.

This maid was two and twelve years of age, in whom Nature had such joy. For as she can paint a lily white and a rose red even with such art she hath painted this noble creature ere she was born, upon her noble limbs, where by right such colours should be; and Phoebus hath dyed her thick tresses like to the streams of his lustrous heat. And if her beauty was excellent she was a thousand-fold more virtuous. She lacked no quality that discernment may praise ; as well in spirit as in body she was chaste ; wherefore she flowered in virginity with all humility and abstinence, with all temperance and patience, and eke sobriety of bearing and garb. In answering she was alway discreet, though she might be as wise as Pallas, I dare say. Her faculty of speech was full womanly and plain; she had no counterfeited terms, to seem wise, but she spake after her station, and all her words, both more and less, were full of virtue and of nobility. Shamefast she was in the shamefastness of a maiden, constant in heart and ever busy to drive out sluggard idleness. Of her mouth Bacchus had no mastery; for wine and youth cause Venus increase, even as men will cast oil into fire. And of her own free will and virtue, she hath full oft feigned her sick because she would flee the company where folly was like to be treated of, as at feasts, dances and revels, that be the occasions of dalliance. Such things, as men may see, make children too soon ripe and bold, which is full perilous and hath ever been. For all too soon she may learn lore of boldness, when she is waxed a wife.

And ye mistresses in your old age that have lords' daughters in governance, take no displeasure of my words. Think that ye be set to govern the daughters of lords only for two things: either for ye have kept your virtue, or else ye have fallen into frailty and know well enough the old dance and have fully forsaken such misconduct forevermore. Therefore, for Christ's sake, look that ye be not slack to teach them virtue. A thief of venison that hath given over his appetite and all his old craft, can keep a forest best of all men. Keep them well now, for if ye will, ye can. Look well that ye give assent unto no vice, lest ye be damned for your wicked mind, for whosoever doth, in sooth, is a traitor. And pay heed to that I shall say: of all treasons the sovereign plague is when a wight betrayeth innocence. Ye fathers and eke ye mothers, that have children, be it one or two, yours is all the charge to watch over them while they be under your governance. Beware, by the ensample of your living or by your neglect of chastisement, that they perish not; for I dare well say that if they do, ye shall rue it dearly. Under a soft and negligent shepherd, the wolf hath torn in pieces many a sheep and lamb. One ensample sufficeth now, for I must turn again to my matter.

This maid, of whom I will tell this tale, so kept herself that she needed no mistress. For in her living, as in a book, maidens might read every good word or act that belongeth to a virtuous maid; she was so prudent and so kind. Wherefore the fame sprang out far on every side both of her beauty and her goodness; that throughout that land everyone praised her that loved virtue, save envy alone that is sorry for the weal of another man, and glad of his sorrow and his misfortune. (The doctor, Saint Augustine, maketh this description of envy.) This maid on a day went to a temple with her dear mother, as is the wont of young maidens.

Now there was a justice then in that town that was governor of that country. And so befell this judge cast his eyes upon this maid, considering her full closely as she came past where he was. Straightway his heart changed and his mood, he was so caught with the beauty of this maiden, and full privily he said to himself, "This maid shall be mine in spite of any man." Anon the fiend glided suddenly into his heart and taught him that he might by craft win the maiden to his purpose. For certes, it seemed to him, that by no force nor suborning could he speed. For she was strong of friends and eke she was confirmed in such sovereign goodness that he knew well he might never so achieve as to make her sin with her body. Wherefore, upon great deliberation, he sent for a churl in that town whom he knew for a fellow subtle and bold. This judge hath said his say to this churl in secret wise, and made him swear he should tell it to no creature, and if he did he should lose his head. When this cursed plan was assented to, glad was this judge and made him great cheer, and gave him gifts precious and fine. When all this plot was shapen, from point to point, how that his lechery should be performed full subtly, as ye shall afterwards openly hear, home goeth the churl, that was named Claudius. This false judge called Apius (so was he named, for this is no fable, but known for a notable historical thing; the substance of it is sooth, out of doubt), this false judge now goeth about to hasten his delight all that he may. And so it befell soon after, as the book telleth us, that this false judge sat in his consistory, as he was wont, and gave his judgments on sundry cases. This false churl came forth in full great haste and said, "Lord, if it be your will, do me justice upon this rueful petition, in which I make complaint against Virginius, and if he will say that it is not so, I will prove it, and find good witness that what my bill declareth is sooth."

The judge answered, "Of this I may not in his absence give final judgment. Let him be called and I will gladly listen. Thou shalt have right and no wrong here."

Virginius came, that he might know the judge's will, and straightway this cursed petition was read; the sense of it was as ye shall hear.

"To you, my lord, Sir Apius, sheweth your poor servant Claudius how a knight called Virginius, against the law and all equity, holdeth expressly against my will my servant, by law my thrall, that was stolen from my house by night while she was full young; this will I prove by witness, lord, so it offend you not. She is not his daughter, whatsoever he saith. Wherefore I pray to you, my lord judge, yield me my thrall, if it be your will." Lo! this was the sense of his petition.

Virginius gan look on the churl, but hastily ere he told his tale and would have proved as a knight should, and eke by many a witness, that what his accuser had said was false, this cursed judge would tarry no whit nor hear a word from Virginius, but gave his judgment and said, "I decree that straightway this churl have his servant ; thou shalt keep her in thy house no longer. Go bring her forth and put her here in our charge. The churl shall have his thrall; this I award him."

When Virginius, this worthy knight, by the sentence of this justice, must needs give his dear daughter unto the judge to live in lechery, he goeth home and sitteth him in his hall and straightway letteth his dear daughter be summoned, and with a face dead as cold ashes he gan gaze upon her humble face with a father's pity sticking through his heart, albeit he would not swerve from his purpose.

"Daughter," quoth he, "Virginia, there be two ways, either death or shame, that thou must suffer. Alas! that I was born! For never thou deservedst to die with a sword. O dear daughter, ender of my life, whom I have fostered up with such gladness that thou wert never out of my remembrance! O daughter, that art my last woe, and eke in my life my last joy, O gem of chastity, take thou in patience thy death, for this is my judgment. For love and not for hate, thou must die. My wretched hand must smite off thy head. Alas! that ever Apius saw thee. Thus hath he falsely judged thee to-day," and told her all the case as ye have already heard; it needeth not to tell it more.

"O mercy, dear father," quoth this maid, and with that word she laid both her arms about his neck, as she wont to do. The tears burst from her eyes and she said, "Good father, shall I die? Is there no grace? Is there no help?"

"No, certes, my dear daughter," quoth he. "Then give me leisure, father mine, a little while to lament my death, for Jepthah, pardee, gave his daughter grace to lament, ere he slew her, alas! And God wot it was nothing her fault, but because she ran first to greet her father to welcome him with festivity." And with that word straightway she fell swooning, and after her swooning had left her, she riseth up and saith to her father, "Blessed be God, I shall die a maiden. Give me my death ere I have shame. Do your will with your child, for God's sake." And with that she besought him many times that with his sword he would smite softly, and thereupon she fell down in a swoon. With full sorrowful heart and will, her father smote off her head, and took it by the top and gan present it to the judge as he sat yet judging in consistory. And when the judge saw it, as saith the book, he bade men take him and hang him at once. But straightway a thousand people thronged in to save the knight for ruth and compassion, for the false iniquity was known. The people hath straightway suspected, from the manner of the churl's challenge, that this thing was by Apius' consent. They wist well that he was lustful. For which they went unto him and anon cast him in a prison, where he slew himself. And Claudius, his servant, was doomed to hang on a tree; but that Virginius, of his pity, so prayed for him that he was exiled; else certes, he had been destroyed. The remnant, high and low, were hanged, that were privy to this cursedness. Here many men see how sin hath its deserts! Beware, for no man knoweth whom God will smite, nor in what wise the worm of conscience may writhe within a man, though his wicked life be so privy that no man knoweth thereof but God and him. For be he a man simple or learned, he wot not how soon he shall be afeard. Therefore I rede you take this counsel: forsake sin ere sin forsake you.

Here endeth the Physicians Tale.