The Doctor’s Tale: The Tale

There was, as telleth Titus Livius,A knight, that called was Virginius,Full filled of honour and worthiness,And strong of friendes, and of great richess.This knight one daughter hadde by his wife;No children had he more in all his life.Fair was this maid in excellent beautyAboven ev’ry wight that man may see:For nature had with sov’reign diligenceY-formed her in so great excellence,As though she woulde say, “Lo, I, Nature,Thus can I form and paint a creature,When that me list; who can me counterfeit?Pygmalion? not though he aye forge and beat,Or grave or painte: for I dare well sayn,Apelles, Zeuxis, shoulde work in vain,Either to grave, or paint, or forge, or beat,If they presumed me to counterfeit.For he that is the former principal,Hath made me his vicar-generalTo form and painten earthly creaturesRight as me list, and all thing in my cure is,Under the moone, that may wane and wax.And for my work right nothing will I axMy lord and I be full of one accord.I made her to the worship of my lord;So do I all mine other creatures,What colour that they have, or what figures.”Thus seemeth me that Nature woulde say.

This maiden was of age twelve year and tway,In which that Nature hadde such delight.For right as she can paint a lily white,And red a rose, right with such paintureShe painted had this noble creature,Ere she was born, upon her limbes free,Where as by right such colours shoulde be:And Phoebus dyed had her tresses great,Like to the streames of his burned heat.And if that excellent was her beauty,A thousand-fold more virtuous was she.In her there lacked no condition,That is to praise, as by discretion.As well in ghost as body chaste was she:For which she flower’d in virginity,With all humility and abstinence,With alle temperance and patience,With measure eke of bearing and array.Discreet she was in answering alway,Though she were wise as Pallas, dare I sayn;Her faconde eke full womanly and plain,No counterfeited termes hadde sheTo seeme wise; but after her degreeShe spake, and all her worde’s more and lessSounding in virtue and in gentleness.Shamefast she was in maiden’s shamefastness,Constant in heart, and ever in businessTo drive her out of idle sluggardy:Bacchus had of her mouth right no mast’ry.For wine and slothe do Venus increase,As men in fire will casten oil and grease.And of her owen virtue, unconstrain’d,She had herself full often sick y-feign’d,For that she woulde flee the company,Where likely was to treaten of folly,As is at feasts, at revels, and at dances,That be occasions of dalliances.Such thinges make children for to beToo soone ripe and bold, as men may see,Which is full perilous, and hath been yore;For all too soone may she learne loreOf boldeness, when that she is a wife.

And ye mistresses, in your olde lifeThat lordes’ daughters have in governance,Take not of my wordes displeasanceThinke that ye be set in governingsOf lordes’ daughters only for two things;Either for ye have kept your honesty,Or else for ye have fallen in frailtyAnd knowe well enough the olde dance,And have forsaken fully such meschanceFor evermore; therefore, for Christe’s sake,To teach them virtue look that ye not slake.A thief of venison, that hath forlaftHis lik’rousness, and all his olde craft,Can keep a forest best of any man;Now keep them well, for if ye will ye can.Look well, that ye unto no vice assent,Lest ye be damned for your wick’ intent,For whoso doth, a traitor is certain;And take keep of that I shall you sayn;Of alle treason, sov’reign pestilenceIs when a wight betrayeth innocence.Ye fathers, and ye mothers eke also,Though ye have children, be it one or mo’,Yours is the charge of all their surveyance,While that they be under your governance.Beware, that by example of your living,Or by your negligence in chastising,That they not perish for I dare well say,If that they do, ye shall it dear abeye.Under a shepherd soft and negligentThe wolf hath many a sheep and lamb to-rent.Suffice this example now as here,For I must turn again to my mattere.

This maid, of which I tell my tale express,She kept herself, her needed no mistress;For in her living maidens mighte read,As in a book, ev’ry good word and deedThat longeth to a maiden virtuous;She was so prudent and so bounteous.For which the fame out sprang on every sideBoth of her beauty and her bounte wide:That through the land they praised her each oneThat loved virtue, save envy alone,That sorry is of other manne’s weal,And glad is of his sorrow and unheal —The Doctor maketh this descriptioun. —This maiden on a day went in the townToward a temple, with her mother dear,As is of younge maidens the mannere.Now was there then a justice in that town,That governor was of that regioun:And so befell, this judge his eyen castUpon this maid, avising her full fast,As she came forth by where this judge stood;Anon his hearte changed and his mood,So was he caught with beauty of this maidAnd to himself full privily he said,“This maiden shall be mine for any man.”Anon the fiend into his hearte ran, man may doAnd taught him suddenly, that he by sleightThis maiden to his purpose winne might.For certes, by no force, nor by no meed,Him thought he was not able for to speed;For she was strong of friendes, and eke sheConfirmed was in such sov’reign bounte,That well he wist he might her never win,As for to make her with her body sin.For which, with great deliberatioun,He sent after a clerk was in the town,The which he knew for subtle and for bold.This judge unto this clerk his tale toldIn secret wise, and made him to assureHe shoulde tell it to no creature,And if he did, he shoulde lose his head.And when assented was this cursed rede,Glad was the judge, and made him greate cheer,And gave him giftes precious and dear.When shapen was all their conspiracyFrom point to point, how that his lecheryPerformed shoulde be full subtilly,As ye shall hear it after openly,Home went this clerk, that highte Claudius.This false judge, that highte Appius, —(So was his name, for it is no fable,But knowen for a storial thing notable;The sentence of it sooth is out of doubt); —This false judge went now fast aboutTo hasten his delight all that he may.And so befell, soon after on a day,This false judge, as telleth us the story,As he was wont, sat in his consistory,And gave his doomes upon sundry case’;This false clerk came forth a full great pace,And saide; Lord, if that it be your will,As do me right upon this piteous bill,In which I plain upon Virginius.And if that he will say it is not thus,I will it prove, and finde good witness,That sooth is what my bille will express.”The judge answer’d, “Of this, in his absence,I may not give definitive sentence.Let do him call, and I will gladly hear;Thou shalt have alle right, and no wrong here.”Virginius came to weet the judge’s will,And right anon was read this cursed bill;The sentence of it was as ye shall hear“To you, my lord, Sir Appius so clear,Sheweth your poore servant Claudius,How that a knight called Virginius,Against the law, against all equity,Holdeth, express against the will of me,My servant, which that is my thrall by right,Which from my house was stolen on a night,While that she was full young; I will it preveBy witness, lord, so that it you not grieve;She is his daughter not, what so he say.Wherefore to you, my lord the judge, I pray,Yield me my thrall, if that it be your will.”Lo, this was all the sentence of the bill.Virginius gan upon the clerk behold;But hastily, ere he his tale told,And would have proved it, as should a knight,And eke by witnessing of many a wight,That all was false that said his adversary,This cursed judge would no longer tarry,Nor hear a word more of Virginius,But gave his judgement, and saide thus:“I deem anon this clerk his servant have;Thou shalt no longer in thy house her save.Go, bring her forth, and put her in our wardThe clerk shall have his thrall: thus I award.”

And when this worthy knight, Virginius,Through sentence of this justice Appius,Muste by force his deare daughter giveUnto the judge, in lechery to live,He went him home, and sat him in his hall,And let anon his deare daughter call;And with a face dead as ashes coldUpon her humble face he gan behold,With father’s pity sticking through his heart,All would he from his purpose not convert.“Daughter,” quoth he, “Virginia by name,There be two wayes, either death or shame,That thou must suffer, — alas that I was bore!For never thou deservedest whereforeTo dien with a sword or with a knife,O deare daughter, ender of my life,Whom I have foster’d up with such pleasanceThat thou were ne’er out of my remembrance;O daughter, which that art my laste woe,And in this life my laste joy also,O gem of chastity, in patienceTake thou thy death, for this is my sentence:For love and not for hate thou must be dead;My piteous hand must smiten off thine head.Alas, that ever Appius thee say!Thus hath he falsely judged thee to-day.”And told her all the case, as ye beforeHave heard; it needeth not to tell it more.

“O mercy, deare father,” quoth the maid.And with that word she both her armes laidAbout his neck, as she was wont to do,(The teares burst out of her eyen two),And said, “O goode father, shall I die?Is there no grace? is there no remedy?”“No, certes, deare daughter mine,” quoth he.“Then give me leisure, father mine, quoth she,“My death for to complain a little spaceFor, pardie, Jephthah gave his daughter graceFor to complain, ere he her slew, alas!And, God it wot, nothing was her trespass,But for she ran her father first to see,To welcome him with great solemnity.”And with that word she fell a-swoon anon;And after, when her swooning was y-gone,She rose up, and unto her father said:“Blessed be God, that I shall die a maid.Give me my death, ere that I have shame;Do with your child your will, in Godde’s name.”And with that word she prayed him full oftThat with his sword he woulde smite her soft;And with that word, a-swoon again she fell.Her father, with full sorrowful heart and fell,Her head off smote, and by the top it hent,And to the judge he went it to present,As he sat yet in doom in consistory.

And when the judge it saw, as saith the story,He bade to take him, and to hang him fast.But right anon a thousand people in thrastTo save the knight, for ruth and for pityFor knowen was the false iniquity.The people anon had suspect in this thing,By manner of the clerke’s challenging,That it was by th’assent of Appius;They wiste well that he was lecherous.For which unto this Appius they gon,And cast him in a prison right anon,Where as he slew himself: and Claudius,That servant was unto this Appius,Was doomed for to hang upon a tree;But that Virginius, of his pity,So prayed for him, that he was exil’d;And elles certes had he been beguil’d;The remenant were hanged, more and less,That were consenting to this cursedness.Here men may see how sin hath his merite:Beware, for no man knows how God will smiteIn no degree, nor in which manner wiseThe worm of conscience may agrise frighten, horrifyOf wicked life, though it so privy be,That no man knows thereof, save God and he;For be he lewed man or elles lear’d,He knows not how soon he shall be afear’d;Therefore I rede you this counsel take,Forsake sin, ere sinne you forsake.