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Ilustrações:
Xilogravuras de autoria anónima extraídas da segunda edição
de The Canterbury Tales, de Geoffrey Chaucer,
impressa por William Caxton em Londres em 1483.
Capa, projeto gráfico e editoração eletrônica:
Bracher & Malta Produção Gráfica / ]ulia Mota
Revisão:
Fabrício Corsaletti
Alberto Martins
Beatriz de Freitas Moreira
ISBN 978-85-7326-562-0
CDD - 820
The Milleres Tale
Here folwen the wordes bitwene the Host and the 11illere.
Whan that the Knight had thus his tale y-told,/ ln al the
route nas ther yong ne old/ That he ne seyde it was a noble storie,/
And worthy for to drawen to memorie;/ And namely the gentils
everichoon./ Our Hoste lough and swoor, 'so moot I goon,/ This
gooth aright; unbokeled is the male;/ Lat see now who shal telle
another tale:/ For trewely, the game is wel bigonne./ N ow telleth
ye, sir Monk, if that ye conne,/ Sumwhat, to quyte with the
Knightes tale.'/
The Miller, that for-dronken was al pale,/ So that unnethe
up-on his hors he sat,/ He nolde avalen neither hood ne hat,/ Ne
abyde no man for his curteisye,/ But in Pilates vois he gan to crye,/
And swoor by armes and by blood and bones,/ 'I can a no ble tale
for the nones,/ With which I wol now quyte the Knightes tale.'/
Our Hoste saugh that he was dronke of ale,/ And seyde:
'abyd, Robin, my leve brother,/ Som bettre man shal telle us first
another:/ Abyd, and lat us werken thriftily. '/
66
Era uma dádiva mais atraente para as moças que moravam na cidade, pois ti-
nham como gastá-lo. (N. do T.)
68
Santa padroeira de Oxford. (N. da E.)
69 Esse esconjuro, também conhecido como o "Padre-Nosso Branco", era uma es-
pécie de reza contra 0 feitiço. Quanto à obscura referência à irmã de São Pedro, talvez
não passe de uma deturpação da invocação a Santa Petronilha, filha do santo. (N. do T.)
And atte laste this hende Nicholas/ Gan for to syke sore, and
seyde, 'alias!/ Shal al the world be lost eftsones now?'/
This carpenter answerde, 'what seystow?/ What! thenk on god,
as we don, men that swinke. 'I
This Nicholas answerde, 'fecche me drinke;/ And after wol 1
speke in privetee/ Of certeyn thing that toucheth me and thee;/ 1 wol
telle it non other man, certeyn. '/
This carpenter goth doun, and comth ageyn,/ And broghte
of mighty ale a large quart;/ And whan that ech of hem had
dronke his part,/ This Nicholas his dore faste shette,/ And doun
the carpenter by him he sette./ He seyde, 'lohn, myn hoste lief and
dere,/ Thou shall up-on thy trouthe swere me here,/ That to no
wight thou shalt this conseil wreye;/ For it is Cristes conseil that 1
seye,/ And if thou telle it man, thou are forlore;/ For this vengaunce
thou shalt han therfore,/ That if thou wreye me, thou shalt be
wood!'/
'Nay, Crist forbede it, for his holy blood! '/ Quod tho this sely
man, 'I nam no labbe,/ Ne, though I seye, I nam nat lief to gabbe./
Sey what thou wolt, I shal it never telle/ To child ne wyf, by him
that harwed helle!'/
'Now John,' quod Nicholas, 'I wol nat lye;/ I have y-founde in
myn astrologye,/ As I have loked in the mone bright,/ That now, a
Monday next, at quarter-night,/ Shal falle a reyn and that so wilde
and wood/ That half so greet was never Noes flood./ This world,'
he seyde, 'in lasse than in an hour/ Shal al be dreynt, so hidous is
the shour;/ Thus shal mankynde drenche and lese hir lyf. '/
This carpenter answerde, 'allas, my wyf!/ And shal she
drenche? alias! myn Alisoun!'/ For sorwe of this he fil almost
adoun,/ And seyde, 'is ther no remedie in this cas ?' /
'Why, yis, for gode,' quod hende Nicholas,/ 'If thou wolt
werken after lore and reed;/ Thou mayst nat werken after thyn
owene heed./ For thus seith Salomon, that was ful trewe,/ "Werk
ai by conseil, and thou shalt nat rewe. "I And if thou werken wolt
O Conto do Moleiro
177
Who rubbeth now, who froteth now his lippes/ With dust, with
sond, with straw, with clooth, with chippes,/ But Absolon, that
seith ful ofte, 'allas!/ My soule bitake I un-to Sathanas,/ But me wer
lever than al this toun,' quod he,/ 'Of this despyt awroken for to
be!/ Allas!' quod he, 'allas! I ne hadde y~bleynt!'/ His hote love was
cold and ai y-queynt;/ For fro that tyme that he had kiste hir ers,/
Of paramours he sette nat a kers,/ For he was heled of his maladye;/
Ful ofte paramours he gan deffye,/ And weep as dooth a child that
is y-bete./ A softe paas he wente over the strete/ Un-til a smith men
cleped daun Gerveys,/ That in his forge smithed plough-harneys;/ He
sharpeth shaar and culter bisily./ This Absolon knokketh ai esily,/
And seyde, 'undo, Gerveys, and that anon. '/
'What, who artow?'
'It am I, Absolon. '/
'What, Absolon! for Cristes swete tree,/ Why ryse ye so rathe,
ey, benedicite!I What eyleth yow? som gay geri, god it woot,/ Hath
broght yow thus up-on the viritoot;/ By seynt Note, ye woot w el
what I mene. '/
This Absolon ne roghte nat a bene/ Of ai his pley, no w ord
agayn he yaf;/ He hadde more tow on his distaf/ Than Gerveys knew,
and seyde, 'freend so dere,/ That hote culter in the chimenee here,/ As
Iene it me, I have ther-with to clone,/ And I wol bringe it thee agayn
fui sone.'/
Gerveys answerde, 'certes, were it gold,/ Or in a poke nobles
alle untold,/ Thou sholdest have, as Iam trewe smith;/ Ey, Cristes
foo! what wol ye do ther-with?'/
'Ther-of,' quod Absolon, 'be as be may;/ I shal wel telle it thee
to-morwe day' -/ And caughte the culter by the colde stele./ Fui sofre
out at the dore he gan to stele,/ And wente un-to the carpenteres wal./
He cogheth first, and knokketh ther-with-al/ Upon the windowe,
right as he dide er./
This Alison answerde, 'Who is ther/ That knokketh so? I
warante it a theef.'/
183
O Conto do Moleiro