I will you tell as well as e’er I can
A little jape that fell in our citý.”
Our Host answér’d and said; “I grant it thee.
Roger, tell on; and look that it be good,
For many a pasty hast thou letten blood,
And many a Jack of Dover1368 hast thou sold,
That had been twicë hot and twicë cold.
Of many a pilgrim hast thou Christë’s curse,
For of thy parsley yet fare they the worse.
That they have eaten in thy stubble goose:
For in thy shop doth many a fly go loose.
Now tell on, gentle Roger, by thy name,
But yet I pray thee be not wroth for game;1369
A man may say full sooth in game and play.”
“Thou sayst full sooth,” quoth Roger, “by my fay;
But sooth play quad play,1370 as the Fleming saith,
And therefore, Harry Bailly, by thy faith,
Be thou not wroth, else we departë1371 here,
Though that my tale be of an hostelére.1372
But natheless, I will not tell it yet,
But ere we part, y-wis1373 thou shalt be quit.”
And therewithal he laugh’d and madë cheer,1374
And told his tale, as ye shall after hear.
The Tale
A prentice whilom dwelt in our city,
And of a craft of victuallers was he:
Galliard1375 he was, as goldfinch in the shaw,1376
Brown as a berry, a proper short felláw:
With lockës black, combed full fetisly.1377
And dance he could so well and jollily,
That he was called Perkin Revellour.
He was as full of love and paramour,
As is the honeycomb of honey sweet;
Well was the wenchë that with him might meet.
At every bridal would he sing and hop;
He better lov’d the tavern than the shop.
For when there any riding was in Cheap,1378
Out of the shoppë thither would he leap,
And, till that he had all the sight y-seen,
And danced well, he would not come again;
And gather’d him a meinie of his sort,1379
To hop and sing, and makë such disport:
And there they settë steven1380 for to meet
To playen at the dice in such a street.
For in the townë was there no prentíce
That fairer couldë cast a pair of dice
Than Perkin could; and thereto he was free
Of his dispence, in place of privity.1381
That found his master well in his chaffare,1382
For oftentime he found his box full bare.
For, soothëly, a prentice revelloúr,
That haunteth dice, riot, and paramoúr,
His master shall it in his shop abie,1383
All1384 have he no part of the minstrelsy.
For theft and riot they be convertible,
All1385 can they play on gitern or ribible.1386
Revel and truth, as in a low degree,
They be full wroth1387 all day, as men may see.
This jolly prentice with his master bode,
Till he was nigh out of his prenticehood,
All1388 were he snubbed1389 both early and late,
And sometimes led with revel to Newgate.
But at the last his master him bethought,
Upon a day when he his paper1390 sought,
Of a proverb, that saith this samë word;
Better is rotten apple out of hoard,
Than that it should rot all the remenánt:
So fares it by a riotous servánt;
It is well lessë harm to let him pace,1391
Than he shend1392 all the servants in the place.
Therefore his master gave him a quittánce,
And bade him go, with sorrow and mischance.
And thus this jolly prentice had his leve:1393
Now let him riot all the night, or leave.1394
And, for there is no thief without a louke,1395
That helpeth him to wasten and to souk1396
Of that he bribë can, or borrow may,
Anon he sent his bed and his array
Unto a compere1397 of his owen sort,
That loved dice, and riot, and disport;
And had a wife, that held for countenance1398
A shop, and swived1399 for her sustenance.
⋮1400
The Man of Law’s Tale
The Prologue
Our Hostë saw well that the brightë sun
Th’ arc of his artificial day had run
The fourthë part, and half an hourë more;
And, though he were not deep expert in lore,
He wist it was the eight-and-twenty day
Of April, that is messenger to May;
And saw well that the shadow of every tree
Was in its length of the same quantity
That was the body erect that caused it;
And therefore by the shadow he took his wit,1401
That Phoebus, which that shone so clear and bright,
Degrees was five-and-forty clomb on height;
And for that day, as in that latitude,
It was ten of the clock, he gan conclude;
And suddenly he plight1402 his horse about.
“Lordings,” quoth he, “I warn you all this rout,1403
The fourthë partie of this day is gone.
Now for the love of God and of Saint John
Losë no time, as farforth as ye may.
Lordings, the timë wasteth night and day,
And steals from us, what privily sleepíng,
And what through negligence in our wakíng,
As doth the stream, that turneth never again,
Descending from the mountain to the plain.
Well might Senec, and many a philosópher,
Bewailë timë more than gold in coffer.
For loss of chattels may recover’d be,
But loss of timë shendeth1404 us, quoth he.
It will not come again, withoutë dread,1405
No morë than will Malkin’s maidenhead,1406
When she hath lost it in her wantonness.
Let us not mouldë thus in idleness.
Sir Man of Law,” quoth he, “so have ye bliss,
Tell us a tale anon, as forword is.1407
Ye be submitted through your free assent
To stand in this case at my judgëment.
Acquit you now, and holdë your behest;1408
Then have ye done your dévoir1409 at the least.”
“Hostë,” quoth he, “de par dieux jeo asente;1410
To breakë forword is not mine intent.
Behest is debt, and I would hold
