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THE POET'S TALE
Disclaimer: The Canterbury Tales belong to someone who isn't me. Any copyright infringements were not intended. This story was written for entertainment and not for profit.
There was another pilgrim with us, a POET. He wore the dress common to his guild. He came from London several years ago, and spent his time traveling from one town to the next to grace the common folk with his rhyming works of art. He is good at rhyming above all else, and although his poem's plot devices could be better, he was still the best poet in all of England. He was not wealthy be any means, and scoffed when we told him about other poets that had required wealth, because they were still no match for him. Of that, there was no doubt. After the Nun's Priest had finished his tale, it became the Poet's turn. "My tale is true," he told us, rhyming as he spoke. "I did not think this all up out of the blue. It happened once when I was in Edinbury, when the muses were favorable toward me. I was working for the Edinbury's duke at the time, oh, back then, how I rhymed! But, enough about praise people have given to me. My tale will be of courtly love." Here begins the Poet's Tale About ten years ago On a beautiful spring day A maiden, a courtier, sat near a well like so Thinking about her lovers- She had a lot of them, for she was the fairest one in court, if I do say so myself. She had not met many of her lovers face-to-face, but they had sent her love letters all the same, and she loved to talk to her ladies-in-waiting about them. She was the center of gossip by all around her She was liked by all of the court's unmarried men 'Love at first sight' was a phrase well suited for her When she walked into a room, she caught everyone's attention Married men were wise enough not to let their gazes linger on her for too long All but one, that was; the Baron himself loved to look at her beauty whenever she came He wrote her the sweetest letters of all her lovers, and did for quite some time The letters were anonymous, but she loved to read them all the same Only the Baron's brother knew of this devilry He urged the Baron to stop, but his brother did not listen He continued to send the fair Lady Alison letters praising her for her beauty Little did the two lovers know that their game would soon come to an end Lady Alison and the Baroness were both very good friends They would get together weekly and discuss the latest gossip and trends Then, one day, the Lady Alison showed the Baroness one of the many letters her anonymous lover had sent her But the Baroness recognized the handwriting of Lady Alison's secret lover She went at once to see her husband; she was a devilish sight She demanded he explain himself and told him he had no right Frightened for his reputation if this ever got out The Baron promised to stop his affair if the Baroness promised not to shout And alarm the guards and servants that something was amiss She agreed, and he promised never to wrong her again; they sealed the bargain with a kiss Now I end my tale, and may God grant you all eternal bliss.
Was there ever a better rhymer and story-teller than he? I sincerely doubt such a man ever lived. It was late after the Poet ended his tale, too late for another pilgrim to have a turn. As we drifted off to sleep, each of us wondered what tales the next night would bring and hoped they would be as entertaining. The End Note: The Poet's Tale was intentionally cheesy. I do write better than this most of the time. Honest. |
