From Geoffrey Chaucer's "The Canterbury Tales", The Monk's Tale, lines

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From The Monk's Tale, lines 783-838:
De Julio Cesare

From The Canterbury Tales:
The Monk's Tale
lines 839-878: Cresus

Cresus

This riche Cresus whilom kyng of Lyde,

840 Of whiche Cresus Cirus soore hym dradde,

Yet was he caught amyddes al his pryde,

And to be brent men to the fyr hym ladde.

But swich a reyn doun fro the welkne shadde

That slow the fyr, and made hym to escape;

845 But to be war no grace yet he hadde,

Til Fortune on the galwes made hym gape.

Witness the end of all these conquerors strong.

840 Of which Croesus King Cyrus had such dread,

Yet was he taken, in his pride swelling,

And to be burned upon a pyre was led.

But such a rain down from the clouds was shed

As quenched the fire and let him there escape;

845 But to be warned, no grace was in him spread

Till Fortune on the gallows made him gape.

Whanne he escaped was, he kan nat stente

For to bigynne a newe werre agayn;

He wende wel, for that Fortune hym sente

850 Swich hap that he escaped thurgh the rayn,

That of hise foos he myghte nat be slayn;

And eek a sweven upon a nyght he mette,

Of which he was so proud and eek so fayn

That in vengeance he al his herte sette.

When he'd escaped, not changed was his intent

To march at once into new wars again.

He thought right well 'twas Fortune that had sent

850 Such chance that he'd escape because of rain,

And that by foes he never should be slain;

And then a vision in the night he met,

At which he waxed so proud and grew so fain

That upon vengeance all his heart was set.

855 Upon a tree he was, as that hym thoughte,

Ther Jupiter hym wessh bothe bak and syde,

And Phebus eek a fair towaille hym broughte,

To dryen hym with; and therfore wax his pryde,

And to his doghter that stood hym bisyde,

860 Which that he knew in heigh science habounde,

He bad hir telle hym what it signyfyde,

And she his dreem bigan right thus expounde.

855 Upon a tree he was, or so he thought,

Where Jupiter did wash him, back and side,

And Phoebus, then, a fair white towel brought

To dry him with and thereby swell his pride;

And to his daughter, who stood there beside,

860 And well, he knew, in knowledge did abound,

He bade interpret what it signified,

And she his dream in this wise did expound.

"The tree," quod she, "the galwes is to meene,

And Juppiter bitokneth snow and reyn,

865 And Phebus with his towaille so clene,

Tho been the sonne stremes for to seyn.

Thou shalt anhanged be, fader, certeyn;

Reyn shal thee wasshe, and sonne shal thee drye."

Thus warned hym ful plat and ful pleyn,

870 His doghter, which that called was Phanye.

"The tree," she said, "the gallows is to mean,

And Jupiter betokens snow and rain,

865 While Phoebus with his towel white and clean,

That is the sunbeams beating down amain;

You shall be hanged, O father, 'tis certain;

The rain shall wash you and the sun shall dry."

And thus she gave him warning flat and plain,

870 His daughter, who was Phania, say I.

Anhanged was Cresus, the proude kyng,

His roial trone myghte hym nat availle.

Tragedies is noon oother maner thyng,

Ne kan in syngyng crye ne biwaille,

875 But for that Fortune alwey wole assaille

With unwar strook the regnes that been proude;

For whan me trusteth hire, thanne wol she faille,

And covere hir brighte face with a clowde.

So hanged was Croesus, that proud Lydian king,

His royal throne could nothing then avail.

Tragedy is no other kind of thing;

Nor can the singer cry aught, or bewail,

875 But that Dame Fortune always will assail

With unwarned stroke those great ones who are proud;

For when men trust her most, then will she fail

And cover her bright face as with a cloud.

Explicit Tragedia.

Heere stynteth the Knyght the Monk of his tale.

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From The Canterbury Tales, The Nun's Priest's Tale