The Knight’s Tale

made the fairë chain of love, Great was th’ effect, and high was his intent; Well wist he why, and what thereof he meant: For with that fairë chain of love he bond The fire, the air, the water, and the lond In certain bondës, that they may not flee: That samë prince and mover eke,” quoth he, “Hath stablish’d, in this wretched world adown, Certain of dayës and duratión To all that are engender’d in this place, Over the whichë day they may not pace, All may they yet their dayës well abridge. There needeth no authority to allëge For it is proved by experience; But that me list declarë my senténce. Then may men by this order well discern, That thilkë mover stable is and etern. Well may men know, but that it be a fool, That every part deriveth from its whole. For nature hath not ta’en its beginning Of no partie nor cantle of a thing, But of a thing that perfect is and stable, Descending so, till it be corruptáble. And therefore of his wisë purveyance He hath so well beset his ordinance, That species of things and progressións Shallen endurë by successións, And not etern, withouten any lie: This mayst thou understand and see at eye. Lo th’ oak, that hath so long a nourishing From the time that it ’ginneth first to spring, And hath so long a life, as ye may see, Yet at the last y-wasted is the tree. Consider eke, how that the hardë stone Under our feet, on which we tread and gon, Yet wasteth, as it lieth by the way. The broadë river some time waxeth drey. The greatë townës see we wane and wend. Then may ye see that all things have an end. Of man and woman see we well also, That needës in one of the termës two⁠— That is to say, in youth or else in age⁠— He must be dead, the king as shall a page; Some in his bed, some in the deepë sea, Some in the largë field, as ye may see: There helpeth nought, all go that ilkë way: Then may I say that allë thing must die. What maketh this but Jupiter the king? The which is prince, and cause of allë thing, Converting all unto his proper will, From which it is derived, sooth to tell And hereagainst no creature alive, Of no degree, availeth for to strive. Then is it wisdom, as it thinketh me, To make a virtue of necessity, And take it well, that we may not eschew, And namëly what to us all is due. And whoso grudgeth ought, he doth folly, And