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Here biginneth the Shipmannes Prolog.
OUR hoste up-on his stiropes stood anon, | |
| And seyde, ‘good men, herkneth everich on; | |
| This was a thrifty tale for the nones! | |
| Sir parish prest,’ quod he, ‘for goddes bones, | |
| Tel us a tale, as was thy forward yore. | 5 |
| I see wel that ye lerned men in lore | |
| Can moche good, by goddes dignitee!’ | |
| The Persone him answerde, ‘benedicite! | |
| What eyleth the man, so sinfully to swere?’ | |
| Our hoste answerde, ‘O Iankin, be ye there? | 10 |
| I smelle a loller in the wind,’ quod he. | |
| ‘How! good men,’ quod our hoste, ‘herkneth me; | |
| Abydeth, for goddes digne passioun, | |
| For we shal han a predicacioun; | |
| This loller heer wil prechen us som-what.’ | 15 |
| ‘Nay, by my fader soule! that shal be nat,’ | |
| Seyde the Shipman; ‘heer he shal nat preche, | |
| He shal no gospel glosen heer ne teche. | |
| We leve alle in the grete god,’ quod he, | |
| ‘He wolde sowen som difficultee, | 20 |
| Or springen cokkel in our clene corn; | |
| And therfor, hoste, I warne thee biforn, | |
| My Ioly body shal a tale telle, | |
| And I shal clinken yow so mery a belle, | |
| That I shal waken al this companye; | 25 |
| But it shal nat ben of philosophye, | |
| Ne physices, ne termes queinte of lawe; | |
Ther is but litel Latin in my mawe.’
Here endeth the Shipman his Prolog. | |
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