| |
| ‘HO!’ quod the knight, ‘good sir, na-more of this, | |
| That ye han seyd is right y-nough, y-wis, | |
| And mochel more; for litel hevinesse | |
| Is right y-nough to mochel folk, I gesse. | |
| I seye for me, it is a greet disese | 5 |
| Wher-as men han ben in greet welthe and ese, | |
| To heren of hir sodeyn fal, allas! | |
| And the contrarie is Ioie and greet solas, | |
| As whan a man hath been in povre estaat, | |
| And clymbeth up, and wexeth fortunat, | 10 |
| And ther abydeth in prosperitee, | |
| Swich thing is gladsom, as it thinketh me, | |
| And of swich thing were goodly for to telle.’ | |
| ‘Ye,’ quod our hoste, ‘by seint Poules belle, | |
| Ye seye right sooth; this monk, he clappeth loude, | 15 |
| He spak how “fortune covered with a cloude” | |
| I noot never what, and als of a “Tragedie” | |
| Right now ye herde, and parde! no remedie | |
| It is for to biwaille, ne compleyne | |
| That that is doon, and als it is a peyne, | 20 |
| As ye han seyd, to here of hevinesse. | |
| Sir monk, na-more of this, so god yow blesse! | |
| Your tale anoyeth al this companye; | |
| Swich talking is nat worth a boterflye; | |
| For ther-in is ther no desport ne game. | 25 |
| Wherfor, sir Monk, or dan Piers by your name, | |
| I preye yow hertely, telle us somwhat elles, | |
| For sikerly, nere clinking of your belles, | |
| That on your brydel hange on every syde, | |
| By heven king, that for us alle dyde, | 30 |
| I sholde er this han fallen doun for slepe, | |
| Although the slough had never been so depe; | |
| Than had your tale al be told in vayn. | |
| For certeinly, as that thise clerkes seyn, | |
| “Wher-as a man may have noon audience, | 35 |
| Noght helpeth it to tellen his sentence.” | |
| And wel I woot the substance is in me, | |
| If any thing shal wel reported be. | |
| Sir, sey somwhat of hunting, I yow preye.’ | |
| ‘Nay,’ quod this monk, ‘I have no lust to pleye; | 40 |
| Now let another telle, as I have told.’ | |
| Than spak our host, with rude speche and bold, | |
| And seyde un-to the Nonnes Preest anon, | |
| ‘Com neer, thou preest, com hider, thou sir Iohn, | |
| Tel us swich thing as may our hertes glade, | 45 |
| Be blythe, though thou ryde up-on a Iade. | |
| What though thyn hors be bothe foule and lene, | |
| If he wol serve thee, rekke nat a bene; | |
| Look that thyn herte be mery evermo.’ | |
| ‘Yis, sir,’ quod he, ‘yis, host, so mote I go, | 50 |
| But I be mery, y-wis, I wol be blamed:’— | |
| And right anon his tale he hath attamed, | |
| And thus he seyde un-to us everichon, | |
This swete preest, this goodly man, sir Iohn.
Explicit. | |
| |
