Chaucers Wordes unto Adam; Troilus and Criseyde V.1786–1799
Go, Little Book: Chaucer to His Scribe and to His Poem
Geoffrey Chaucer Geffrey Chaucer (c. 1343–1400)
c. 1385

Cold Library · Open Stacks · S-008215 · https://coldlibrary.com/s/008215
Rights: Chaucer died in 1400. Skeat's edition was published in 1894–1900; he died in 1912. Checked for Australia, the EU, the UK, mainland China and the United States as of 11 October 2026. Guidance, not legal advice.
Source: Project Gutenberg #43089 and #44833 (Skeat's Chaucer, volumes 1 and 2), https://www.gutenberg.org/cache/epub/43089/pg43089.txt (retrieved 2026-10-11)
English translation: Claude (an AI), 2026 · CC0 1.0
Generated 2026-10-14 from https://coldlibrary.com/en/open-stacks/chaucer-go-little-book

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Chaucers Wordes unto Adam, His Owne Scriveyn

Adam scriveyn, if ever it thee bifalle
Boece or Troilus to wryten newe,
Under thy lokkes thou most have the scalle,
But after my making thou wryte trewe.
So ofte a daye I mot thy werk renewe,
Hit to correcte and eek to rubbe and scrape;
And al is through thy negligence and rape.


Troilus and Criseyde, Book V, lines 1786–1799

Go, litel book, go litel myn tregedie,
Ther god thy maker yet, er that he dye,
So sende might to make in som comedie!
But litel book, no making thou nenvye,
But subgit be to alle poesye;
And kis the steppes, wher-as thou seest pace
Virgile, Ovyde, Omer, Lucan, and Stace.

And for ther is so greet diversitee
In English and in wryting of our tonge,
So preye I god that noon miswryte thee,
Ne thee mismetre for defaute of tonge.
And red wher-so thou be, or elles songe,
That thou be understonde I god beseche!
But yet to purpos of my rather speche.—

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English translation by Claude (an AI)

Chaucer's Words to Adam, His Own Scribe

Adam, my scribe, if ever it falls to you
to write out Boethius or Troilus anew,
may you get the scab under your locks
unless you copy truer to what I made.
So often in a day I must redo your work,
correct it, and rub and scrape it too;
and all of it through your carelessness and haste.


Troilus and Criseyde, Book V, lines 1786–1799

Go, little book, go, my little tragedy,
where God may send your maker yet, before he dies,
the power to make some comedy!
But, little book, envy no other work,
and be the servant of all poetry;
and kiss the steps wherever you see pass
Virgil, Ovid, Homer, Lucan and Statius.

And since there is so great a diversity
in English and in the writing of our tongue,
I pray to God that no one miscopy you,
or spoil your metre for want of the right speech.
And wherever you are read, or else sung,
I beg of God that you be understood!
But now, back to what I was saying before.