Chaucer, what need they had of introducing such characters, where obscene words were proper in their mouths, but very undecent to be heard; I know not what answer they could have made:  for that reason such tales shall be left untold by me.  You have here a specimen of Chaucer’s language, which is so obsolete that his sense is scarce to be understood; and you have likewise more than one example of his unequal numbers, which were mentioned before.  Yet many of his verses consist of ten syllables, and the words not much behind our present English:  as for example, these two lines, in the description of the carpenter’s young wife: 

  Wincing she was, as is a jolly colt,
  Long as a mast, and upright as a bolt.

I have almost done with Chaucer, when I have answer’d some objections relating to my present work.  I find some people are offended that I have turn’d these tales into modern English; because they think them unworthy of my pains, and look on Chaucer as a dry, old-fashion’d wit, not worth reviving.  I have often heard the late Earl of Leicester say that Mr. Cowley himself was of that opinion; who having read him over at my lord’s request, declar’d he had no taste of him.  I dare not advance my opinion against the judgment of so great an author; but I think it fair, however, to leave the decision to the public:  Mr. Cowley was too modest to set up for a dictator; and being shock’d perhaps with his old style, never examin’d into the depth of his good sense.  Chaucer, I confess, is a rough diamond, and must first be polish’d, ere he shines.  I deny not, likewise, that, living in our early days of poetry, he writes not always of a piece, but sometimes mingles trivial things with those of greater moment.  Sometimes also, tho’ not often, he runs riot, like Ovid, and knows not when he has said enough.  But there are more great wits, beside Chaucer, whose fault is their excess of conceits, and those ill sorted.  An author is not to write all he can, but only all he ought.  Having observ’d this redundancy in Chaucer, (as it is an easy matter for a man of ordinary parts to find a fault in one of greater,) I have not tied myself to a literal translation; but have often omitted what I judg’d unnecessary, or not of dignity enough to appear in the company of better thoughts.  I have presumed farther, in some places, and added somewhat of my own where I thought my author was deficient, and had not given his thoughts their true luster, for want of words in the beginning of our language.  And to this I was the more embolden’d, because (if I may be permitted to say it of myself) I found I had a soul congenial to his, and that I had been conversant in the same studies.  Another poet, in another age, may take the same liberty with my writings; if at least they live long enough to deserve correction.  It was also necessary sometimes to restore the sense of Chaucer, which was lost or mangled in the errors of the press.  Let this example suffice at present; in the story of Palawan and Arcite, where the temple of Diana is describ’d, you find these verses, in all the editions of our author: