To riden in this merry company.”
His Yeoman was eke full of courtesy,
And saidë, “Sirs, now in the morning tide
Out of your hostelry I saw you ride,
And warned here my lord and sovereign,
Which that to ridë with you is full fain,
For his disport; he loveth dalliance.”
“Friend, for thy warning God give thee good chance,”4622
Said ourë Host; “certáin it wouldë seem
Thy lord were wise, and so I may well deem;
He is full jocund also, dare I lay;
Can he aught tell a merry tale or tway,
With which he gladden may this company?”
“Who, Sir? my lord? Yea, Sir, withoutë lie,
He can4623 of mirth and eke of jollity
Not but4624 enough; also, Sir, trustë me,
An’4625 ye him knew all so well as do I,
Ye would wonder how well and craftily
He couldë work, and that in sundry wise.
He hath take on him many a great emprise,
Which were full hard for any that is here
To bring about, but4626 they of him it lear.4627
As homely as he rides amongës you,
If ye him knew, it would be for your prow:4628
Ye wouldë not forego his ácquaintánce
For muchë good, I dare lay in balance
All that I have in my possessión.
He is a man of high discretión.
I warn you well, he is a passing4629 man.”
“Well,” quoth our Host, “I pray thee tell me than,
Is he a clerk,4630 or no? Tell what he is.”
“Nay, he is greater than a clerk, y-wis,”4631
Saidë this Yeoman; “and, in wordës few,
Host, of his craft somewhat I will you shew.
I say, my lord can4632 such a subtletý
(But all his craft ye may not weet4633 of me,
And somewhat help I yet to his workíng),
That all the ground on which we be ridíng
Till that we come to Canterbury town,
He could all cleanë turnen up so down,
And pave it all of silver and of gold.”
And when this Yeoman had this talë told
Unto our Host, he said; “Ben’dicite!
This thing is wonder marvellous to me,
Since that thy lord is of so high prudénce,
Because of which men should him reverence,
That of his worship4634 recketh he so lite;4635
His overest slop4636 it is not worth a mite
As in effect to him, so may I go;4637
It is all baudy4638 and to-tore also.
Why is thy lord so sluttish, I thee pray,
And is of power better clothes to bey,4639
If that his deed accordeth with thy speech?
Tellë me that, and that I thee beseech.”
“Why?” quoth this Yeoman, “whereto ask ye me?
God help me so, for he shall never thé4640
(But I will not avowë4641 that I say,
And therefore keep it secret, I you pray);
He is too wise, in faith, as I believe.
Thing that is overdone, it will not preve4642
Aright, as clerkës say; it is a vice;
Wherefore in that I hold him lew’d4643 and nice.4644
For when a man hath over great a wit,
Full oft him happens to misusen it;
So doth my lord, and that me grieveth sore.
God it amend; I can say now no more.”
“Thereof no force,4645 good Yeoman,” quoth our Host;
“Since of the conning4646 of thy lord, thou know’st,
Tell how he doth, I pray thee heartilý,
Since that be is so crafty and so sly.4647
Where dwellë ye, if it to tellë be?”
“In the suburbës of a town,” quoth he,
“Lurking in hernës4648 and in lanës blind,
Where as these robbers and these thieves by kind4649
Holdë their privy fearful residence,
As they that darë not show their presénce,
So farë we, if I shall say the soothë.”4650
“Yet,” quoth our Hostë, “let me talkë tó thee;
Why art thou so discolour’d of thy face?”
“Peter!”4651 quoth he, “God give it hardë grace,4652
I am so us’d the hotë fire to blow,
That it hath changed my coloúr, I trow;
I am not wont in no mirrór to pry,
But swinkë4653 sore, and learn to multiply.4654
We blunder4655 ever, and poren4656 in the fire,
And, for all that, we fail of our desire;
For ever we lack our conclusión.
To muchë folk we do4657 illusión,
And borrow gold, be it a pound or two,
Or ten or twelve, or many summës mo’,
And make them weenen,4658 at the leastë way,
That of a poundë we can makë tway.
Yet is it false; and aye we have good hope
It for to do, and after it we grope:4659
But that sciénce is so far us beforn,
That we may not, although we had it sworn,
It overtake, it slides away so fast;
It will us makë beggars at the last.”
While this Yeomán was thus in his talkíng,
This Canon drew him near, and heard all thing
Which this Yeomán spake, for suspición
Of mennë’s speech ever had this Canón:
For Cato saith, that he that guilty is,
Deemeth all things be spoken of him y-wis;4660
Because of that he gan so nigh to draw
To his Yeomán, that he heard all his saw;4661
And thus he said unto his Yeoman tho;4662
“Hold thou thy peace, and speak no wordës mo’:
For if thou do, thou shalt it dear abie.4663
Thou slanderest me here in this companý,
And eke discoverest that thou shouldest hide.”
“Yea,” quoth our Host, “tell on, whatso betide;
Of all his threatening reck not a mite.”
“In faith,” quoth he, “no more do I but lite.”4664
And when this Canon saw it would not be
But his Yeoman would tell his privitý,
He fled away for very sorrow and shame.
“Ah!” quoth the Yeoman, “here shall rise a game;4665
All that I can anon I will you tell,
Since he is gone; the foulë fiend him quell!4666
For ne’er hereafter will
