The Franklin's Tale - Page 2

into his mouth.
Tyrwhitt was abundantly justified, by the internal evidence
afforded by the lines themselves, in transferring them to their
present place.

2. The "Breton Lays" were an important and curious element in
the literature of the Middle Ages; they were originally
composed in the Armorican language, and the chief collection
of them extant was translated into French verse by a poetess
calling herself "Marie," about the middle of the thirteenth
century. But though this collection was the most famous, and
had doubtless been read by Chaucer, there were other British or
Breton lays, and from one of those the Franklin's Tale is taken.
Boccaccio has dealt with the same story in the "Decameron"
and the "Philocopo," altering the circumstances to suit the
removal of its scene to a southern clime.

THE TALE.

In Armoric', that called is Bretagne,
There was a knight, that lov'd and *did his pain* *devoted himself,
To serve a lady in his beste wise; strove*
And many a labour, many a great emprise,* *enterprise
He for his lady wrought, ere she were won:
For she was one the fairest under sun,
And eke thereto come of so high kindred,
That *well unnethes durst this knight for dread,* *see note *
Tell her his woe, his pain, and his distress
But, at the last, she for his worthiness,
And namely* for his meek obeisance, *especially
Hath such a pity caught of his penance,* *suffering, distress
That privily she fell of his accord
To take him for her husband and her lord
(Of such lordship as men have o'er their wives);
And, for to lead the more in bliss their lives,
Of his free will he swore her as a knight,
That never in all his life he day nor night
Should take upon himself no mastery
Against her will, nor kithe* her jealousy, *show
But her obey, and follow her will in all,
As any lover to his lady shall;
Save that the name of sovereignety
That would he have, for shame of his degree.
She thanked him, and with full great humbless
She saide; "Sir, since of your gentleness
Ye proffer me to have so large a reign,
*Ne woulde God never betwixt us twain,
As in my guilt, were either war or strife:* *see note *
Sir, I will be your humble true wife,
Have here my troth, till that my hearte brest."* *burst
Thus be they both in quiet and in rest.

For one thing, Sires, safely dare I say,
That friends ever each other must obey,
If they will longe hold in company.
Love will not be constrain'd by mastery.
When mast'ry comes, the god of love anon
Beateth his wings, and, farewell, he is gone.
Love is a thing as any spirit free.
Women *of kind* desire liberty, *by nature*
And not to be constrained as a thrall,* *slave
And so