That is to seyn, that telleth in this cas
Tales of best sentence and most solas,
Shal have a soper at our aller cost
Here in this place, sitting by this post,
Whan that we come agayn fro Caunterbury.
And for to make yow the more mery,
I wol my-selven gladly with yow ryde,
Right at myn owne cost, and be your gyde.
And who-so wol my Iugement withseye
Shal paye al that we spenden by the weye.
And if ye vouche-sauf that it be so,
Tel me anon, with-outen wordes mo,
And I wol erly shape me therfore.'
This thing was graunted, and our othes
With ful glad herte, and preyden him also
That he wold vouche-sauf for to do so,
And that he wolde been our governour,
And of our tales Iuge and reportour,
And sette a soper at a certeyn prys;
And we wold reuled been at his devys,
In heigh and lowe; and thus, by oon assent,
We been acorded to his Iugement.
And ther-up-on the wyn was fet anon;
We dronken, and to reste wente echon,
With-outen any lenger taryinge.
THE PROLOGE OF THE PRIORESSES TALE
Domine, dominus noster
O LORD our lord, thy name how merveillous
Is in this large worlde y-sprad - quod
For noght only thy laude precious
Parfourned is by men of dignitee,
But by the mouth of children thy bountee
Parfourned is, for on the brest soukinge
Som tyme shewen they thyn heryinge.
I seye that in a wardrobe they him threwe
Wher-as these lewes purgen hir entraille.
O cursed folk of Herodes al newe,
What may your yvel entente yow availle ?
Mordre wol out, certein, it wol nat faille,
And namely ther thonour of god shal sprede,
The blood out cryeth on your cursed dede.
'O martir, souded to virginitee,
Now maystou singen, folwing ever in oon
The whyte lamb celestial,' quod she,
Of which the grete evangelist, seint Iohn,
In Pathmos wroot, which seith that they
Biforn this lamb, and singe a song al newe,
That never, fleshly, wommen they ne knewe.'
This povre widwe awaiteth al that night
After hir litel child, but he cam noght;
For which, as sone as it was dayes light,
With face pale of drede and bisy thoght,
She hath at scole and elles-wher him soght,
Til finally she gan so fer espye
That he last seyn was in the Iewerye. 140
With modres pitee in hir brest enclosed,
She gooth, as she were half out of hir minde,
To every place wher she hath supposed
By lyklihede hir litel child to finde;
And ever on Cristes moder meke and kinde
She cryde, and atte laste thus she wroghte,
Among the cursed Lewes she him soghte.
She frayneth and she preyeth pitously
To every Iew that dwelte in thilke place, 149
To telle hir, if hir child wente oght for-by.
They seyde, 'nay'; but Iesu, of his grace,
Yaf in hir thought, inwith a litel space,
That in that place after hir sone she cryde,
Wher he was casten in a pit bisyde.
O grete god, that parfournest thy laude
By mouth of innocents, lo heer thy might!
This gemme of chastitee, this emeraude,
And eek of martirdom the ruby bright,
Ther he with throte y-corven lay upright,
He Alma redemptoris' gan to singe
So loude, that al the place gan to ringe.
The Cristen folk, that thurgh the strete
In coomen, for to wondre up-on this thing,
And hastily they for the provost sente;
He cam anon with-outen tarving.
And herieth Crist that is of heven king,
And eek his moder, honour of mankinde,
And after that, the Lewes leet he binde.
This child with pitous lamentacioun
Up-taken was, singing his song alway; 170
And with honour of greet processioun
They carien him un-to the nexte abbay.
His moder swowning by the bere lay;
Unnethe might the peple that was there
This newe Rachel bringe fro his bere.
With torment and with shamful deth echon
This provost dooth thise lewes for to sterve
That of this mordre wiste, and that anon;
He nolde no swich cursednesse observe.
Yvel shal have, that yvel wol deserve. 180
Therfor with wilde hors he dide hem drawe,
And after that he heng hem by the lawe.
Up-on his bere ay lyth this innocent Biforn the chief auter, whyl masse laste, And after that, the abbot with his covent
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, Noght helpeth it to tellen his sentence." And wel I woot the substance is in ine, 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;
Now let another telle, as I have told.'
Than spak our host, with rude speche and
Than spad,
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,
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,
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.
Here Biginneth the Nonne Preestes Tale
of the Cok and Hen, Chaunte-
cleer and Pertelote
A POVRE widwe, somdel stape in age,
Was whylom dwelling in a narwe cotage,
Byside a grove, stonding in a dale.
This widwe, of which I telle yow my tale,
Sin thilke day that she was last a wyf,
In pacience ladde a ful simple lyf,
For litel was hir catel and hir rente;
By housbondrye, of such as God hir sente,
She fond hir-self, and eek hir doghtren
Three large sowes hadde she, and namo, Three kyn, and eek a sheep that highte Malle.
Ful sooty was hir bour, and eek hir halle, In which she eet ful many a sclendre meel.
Of poynaunt sauce hir neded never a deel.
A yerd she hadde, enclosed al aboute
With stikkes, and a drye dich with-oute,
In which she hadde a cok, hight Chaunte-
cleer,
In all the land of crowing nas his peer.
His vois was merier than the mery orgon
On messe-dayes that in the chirche gon;
Wel sikerer was his crowing in his logge,
Than is a clokke, or an abbey orlogge.
By nature knew he ech ascencioun
Of equinoxial in thilke toun;
For whan degrees fiftene were ascended,
Thanne crew he, that it mighte nat ben
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