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Here folweth the Prologe of the Maunciples Tale.
WITE ye nat wher ther stant a litel toun | |
| Which that y-cleped is Bob-up-and-doun, | |
| Under the Blee, in Caunterbury weye? | |
| Ther gan our hoste for to Iape and pleye, | |
| And seyde, ‘sirs, what! Dun is in the myre! | 5 |
| Is ther no man, for preyere ne for hyre, | |
| That wol awake our felawe heer bihinde? | |
| A theef mighte him ful lightly robbe and binde. | |
| See how he nappeth! see, for cokkes bones, | |
| As he wol falle from his hors at ones. | 10 |
| Is that a cook of Londoun, with meschaunce? | |
| Do him come forth, he knoweth his penaunce, | |
| For he shal telle a tale, by my fey! | |
| Al-though it be nat worth a botel hey. | |
| Awake, thou cook,’ quod he, ‘god yeve thee sorwe, | 15 |
| What eyleth thee to slepe by the morwe? | |
| Hastow had fleen al night, or artow dronke, | |
| Or hastow with som quene al night y-swonke, | |
| So that thou mayst nat holden up thyn heed?’ | |
| This cook, that was ful pale and no-thing reed, | 20 |
| Seyde to our host, ‘so god my soule blesse, | |
| As ther is falle on me swich hevinesse, | |
| Noot I nat why, that me were lever slepe | |
| Than the beste galoun wyn in Chepe.’ | |
| ‘Wel,’ quod the maunciple, ‘if it may doon ese | 25 |
| To thee, sir cook, and to no wight displese | |
| Which that heer rydeth in this companye, | |
| And that our host wol, of his curteisye, | |
| I wol as now excuse thee of thy tale; | |
| For, in good feith, thy visage is ful pale, | 30 |
| Thyn yën daswen eek, as that me thinketh, | |
| And wel I woot, thy breeth ful soure stinketh, | |
| That sheweth wel thou art not wel disposed; | |
| Of me, certein, thou shalt nat been y-glosed. | |
| Se how he ganeth, lo, this dronken wight, | 35 |
| As though he wolde us swolwe anon-right. | |
| Hold cloos thy mouth, man, by thy fader kin! | |
| The devel of helle sette his foot ther-in! | |
| Thy cursed breeth infecte wol us alle; | |
| Fy, stinking swyn, fy! foule moot thee falle! | 40 |
| A! taketh heed, sirs, of this lusty man. | |
| Now, swete sir, wol ye Iusten atte fan? | |
| Ther-to me thinketh ye been wel y-shape! | |
| I trowe that ye dronken han wyn ape, | |
| And that is whan men pleyen with a straw.’ | 45 |
| And with this speche the cook wex wrooth and wraw, | |
| And on the maunciple he gan nodde faste | |
| For lakke of speche, and doun the hors him caste, | |
| Wher as he lay, til that men up him took; | |
| This was a fayr chivachee of a cook! | 50 |
| Allas! he nadde holde him by his ladel! | |
| And, er that he agayn were in his sadel, | |
| Ther was greet showving bothe to and fro, | |
| To lifte him up, and muchel care and wo, | |
| So unweldy was this sory palled gost. | 55 |
| And to the maunciple thanne spak our host, | |
| ‘By-cause drink hath dominacioun | |
| Upon this man, by my savacioun | |
| I trowe he lewedly wolde telle his tale. | |
| For, were it wyn, or old or moysty ale, | 60 |
| That he hath dronke, he speketh in his nose, | |
| And fneseth faste, and eek he hath the pose. | |
| He hath also to do more than y-nough | |
| To kepe him and his capel out of slough; | |
| And, if he falle from his capel eft-sone, | 65 |
| Than shul we alle have y-nough to done, | |
| In lifting up his hevy dronken cors. | |
| Telle on thy tale, of him make I no fors. | |
| But yet, maunciple, in feith thou art to nyce, | |
| Thus openly repreve him of his vyce. | 70 |
| Another day he wol, peraventure, | |
| Reclayme thee, and bringe thee to lure; | |
| I mene, he speke wol of smale thinges, | |
| As for to pinchen at thy rekeninges, | |
| That wer not honeste, if it cam to preef.’ | 75 |
| ‘No,’ quod the maunciple, ‘that were a greet mescheef! | |
| So mighte he lightly bringe me in the snare. | |
| Yet hadde I lever payen for the mare | |
| Which he rit on, than he sholde with me stryve; | |
| I wol nat wratthe him, al-so mote I thryve! | 80 |
| That that I spak, I seyde it in my bourde; | |
| And wite ye what? I have heer, in a gourde, | |
| A draught of wyn, ye, of a rype grape, | |
| And right anon ye shul seen a good Iape. | |
| This cook shal drinke ther-of, if I may; | 85 |
| Up peyne of deeth, he wol nat seye me nay!’ | |
| And certeinly, to tellen as it was, | |
| Of this vessel the cook drank faste, allas! | |
| What neded him? he drank y-nough biforn. | |
| And whan he hadde pouped in this horn, | 90 |
| To the maunciple he took the gourde agayn; | |
| And of that drinke the cook was wonder fayn, | |
| And thanked him in swich wyse as he coude. | |
| Than gan our host to laughen wonder loude, | |
| And seyde, ‘I see wel, it is necessarie, | 95 |
| Wher that we goon, good drink we with us carie; | |
| For that wol turne rancour and disese | |
| Tacord and love, and many a wrong apese. | |
| O thou Bachus, y-blessed be thy name, | |
| That so canst turnen ernest in-to game! | 100 |
| Worship and thank be to thy deitee! | |
| Of that matere ye gete na-more of me. | |
| Tel on thy tale, maunciple, I thee preye.’ | |
‘Wel, sir,’ quod he, ‘now herkneth what I seye.’
Thus endeth the Prologe of the Manciple. | |
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