But all honoúr, as I can understand;
Save unto you thus much I tellë shall;
As help me God, he is nought worth at all,
In no degree, the value of a fly.
But yet me grieveth most his niggardý.3729
And well ye wot, that women naturally
Desire thingës six, as well as I.
They wouldë that their husbands shouldë be
Hardy,3730 and wise, and rich, and thereto free,
And buxom3731 to his wife, and fresh in bed.
But, by that ilkë3732 Lord that for us bled,
For his honoúr myself for to array,
On Sunday next I mustë needës pay
A hundred francs, or ellës am I lorn.3733
Yet were me lever3734 that I were unborn,
Than me were done slander or villainý.
And if mine husband eke might it espy,
I were but lost; and therefore I you pray,
Lend me this sum, or ellës must I dey.3735
Dan John, I say, lend me these hundred francs;
Pardie, I will not failë you, my thanks,3736
If that you list to do that I you pray;
For at a certain day I will you pay,
And do to you what pleasance and servíce
That I may do, right as you list devise.
And but3737 I do, God take on me vengeánce,
As foul as e’er had Ganilion3738 of France.”
This gentle monk answér’d in this mannére;
“Now truëly, mine owen lady dear,
I have,” quoth he, “on you so greatë ruth,3739
That I you swear, and plightë you my truth,
That when your husband is to Flanders fare,3740
I will deliver you out of this care,
For I will bringë you a hundred francs.”
And with that word he caught her by the flanks,
And her embraced hard, and kissed her oft.
“Go now your way,” quoth he, “all still and soft,
And let us dine as soon as that ye may,
For by my calinder ’tis prime of day;
Go now, and be as true as I shall be.”
“Now ellës God forbiddë, Sir,” quoth she;
And forth she went, as jolly as a pie,
And bade the cookës that they should them hie,3741
So that men mightë dine, and that anon.
Up to her husband is this wifë gone,
And knocked at his contour boldëly.
“Qui est la?”3742 quoth he. “Peter! it am I,”
Quoth she; “What, Sir, how longë all will ye fast?
How longë time will ye reckon and cast
Your summës, and your bookës, and your things?
The devil have part of all such reckonings!
Ye have enough, pardie, of Goddë’s sond.3743
Come down to-day, and let your baggës stond.
Ne be ye not ashamed, that Dan John
Shall fasting all this day elengë3744 gon?
What? let us hear a mass, and go we dine.”
“Wife,” quoth this man, “little canst thou divine
The curious businessë that we have;
For of us chapmen, all so God me save,
And by that lord that cleped is Saint Ive,
Scarcely amongës twenty, ten shall thrive
Continually, lasting unto our age.
We may well makë cheer and good viságe,
And drivë forth the world as it may be,
And keepen our estate in privity,
Till we be dead, or ellës that we play
A pilgrimage, or go out of the way.
And therefore have I great necessity
Upon this quaint3745 world to advisë3746 me.
For evermorë must we stand in dread
Of hap and fortune in our chapmanhead.3747
To Flanders will I go to-morrow at day,
And come again as soon as e’er I may:
For which, my dearë wife, I thee beseek
As be to every wight buxom3748 and meek,
And for to keep our good be curious,
And honestly governë well our house.
Thou hast enough, in every manner wise,
That to a thrifty household may suffice.
Thee lacketh none array, nor no vitail;
Of silver in thy purse thou shalt not fail.”
And with that word his contour door he shet,3749
And down he went; no longer would he let;3750
And hastily a mass was therë said,
And speedily the tables werë laid,
And to the dinner fastë they them sped,
And richëly this monk the chapman fed.
And after dinner Dan John soberly
This chapman took apart, and privily
He said him thus: “Cousin, it standeth so,
That, well I see, to Bruges ye will go;
God and Saint Austin speedë you and guide.
I pray you, cousin, wisely that ye ride:
Governë you also of your diét
Attemperly,3751 and namely3752 in this heat.
Betwixt us two needeth no strangë fare;3753
Farewell, cousín, God shieldë you from care.
If any thing there be, by day or night,
If it lie in my power and my might,
That ye me will command in any wise,
It shall be done, right as ye will devise.
But one thing ere ye go, if it may be;
I wouldë pray you for to lend to me
A hundred frankës, for a week or twy,
For certain beastës that I mustë buy,
To storë with3754 a placë that is ours
(God help me so, I would that it were yours);
I shall not failë surely of my day,
Not for a thousand francs, a milë way.
But let this thing be secret, I you pray;
For yet tonight these beastës must I buy.
And fare now well, mine owen cousin dear;
Grand mercy3755 of your cost and of your cheer.”
This noble merchant gentilly3756 anon
Answér’d and said, “O cousin mine, Dan John,
Now sickerly this is a small request:
My gold is yourës, when that it you lest,
And not only my gold, but my chaffare;3757
Take what you list, God shieldë that ye spare.3758
But one thing is, ye know it well enow
Of chapmen, that their money is their plough.
We may creancë3759 while we have a name,
But goldless for to be it is no game.
Pay it again when it lies in your ease;
After my might full fain would I you please.”
These hundred frankës set he forth anon,
And privily he took them to Dan John;
No wight in all this world wist of this loan,
Saving
