4-29-32m

THE CANTERBURYTALES.

THE NONNES PREESTES PROL.
Ho! quod the Knight, good Sire, no more of this;
That ye han faid is right ynough ywis,
And mochel more; for litel hevineffe
Is right ynough to mochel folk. I geffe.
I fay for me it is a gret difefe

Wher as men have ben in gret welth and efe
To heren of hir foden fall, alas!

And the contrary is joye and gret fólas,

As whan a man hath ben in poure éstat,

14775

14780

And climbeth up and wexeth fortunat,

And ther abideth in profperitee:

Swich thing is gladsom as it thinketh me,

And of fwiche thing were goodly for to telle. 14785
Ye, quod our Hofte, by Seint Poules belle.
Ye fay right foth: this Monk hath clapped loude
He fpake how Fortune covered with a cloude
I wote not what, and als of a tragedie
Right now ye herd; and parde no remedie

It is for to bewailen ne complaine

That that is don, and als it is a paine,

As ye han faid, to here of hevineffe.

14790

Sire Monk, no more of this, fo God you bleffe;
Your Tale anoyeth all this compagnie;

Swiche talking is not worth a boterflie,

14795

For therin is ther no difport ne game;
Therfore Sire Monk, Dan Piers by your name,
I pray you hertely tell us fomwhat elles,
For fikerly n'ere clinking of your belles
That on your bridel hange on every fide,
By heven king, that for us alle dide,

14800

I fhuld er this have fallen doun for flepe,
Although the flough had ben never so depe,
Than hadde your Tale all ben tolde in vain: 14805
For certainly, as that thife clerkes fain,
Wher as a man may have non audience
Nought helpeth it to tellen his fentence;
And wel I wote the fubftance is in me
If any thing fhal wel reported be.

Sire, fay fomwhat of hunting I you pray.

14810

Nay, quod this Monk, I have not luft to play:

Now lette another telle as I have told.

Than fpake oure Hofte with rude fpeche and bold, And fayd unto the Nonnes Preeft anon, 14815 Come nere, thou Preeft, come hither, thou Sire John;

v. 14911. fay fomwhat of hunting] For the propriety of this requeft fee the note on ver. 166 of the Monkes character.

V. 14816. thou Sire John] I know not how it has happened that in the principal modern languages John (or its equivalent) is a name of contempt, or at leaft of flight. So the Italians ufe Gianni, from whence Zani, the Spaniards Juan, as Bobo Juan, a foolith John, the French Jean, with various additions, and in English when we call a man a John we do not mean it as a title of honour. Chaucer, in ver. 3708, uses Jacke Fool as the Spaniards do Bobo Juan, and I suppose Jack As has the fame etymology. The title of Sire was usually given, by courtesy, to pricfts both fecular and regular.

14820

Telle us fwiche thing as may our hertes glade:
Be blithe although thou ride upon a jade.
What though thin horse be bothe foule and lene?
If he wol ferve thee recke thee not a bene':
Loke that thyn herte be mery evermo.
Yes, Hofte, quod he, fo mote I ride or go
But I be mery ywis I wol be blamed.
And right anon his Tale he hath attamed;

And thus he faid unto us everich on,

This fwete Preeft, this goodly man, Sire John.

14825

THE NONNES PREESTES TALE. A Poure widewe, fomdel ftoupen in age, Was whilom dwelling in a narwe cotage Befide a grove ftonding in a dale.

This widewe, which I tell you of my Tale, 14830 Sin thilke day that she was last a wif

In patience led a ful fimple lif,

For litel was hire catel and hire rente;

By hufbondry of fwiche as God hire fente

She found hirefelf and eke hire doughtren two.
Three large fowes had the, and no mo, 14836
Three kine, and eke a fheep that highte Malle:
Ful footy was hire boure and eke hire halle,
In which fhe ete many a flender mele;
Of poinant fauce ne knew she never a dele:

14840

The Nonnes Preefies Tale] Of a cock and a hen; the morall whereof is to embrace true friends, and to beware of flatterers. Urry.

Curteis fhe was, difcrete, and debonaire,
And compenable, and bare hircfelf fo faire,..
Sithen the day that she was sevennight old,
That trewelich fhe hath the herte in hold
Of Chaunteclere, loken in every lith;
He loved hire fo that wel was him therwith:
But fwiche a joye it was to here hem fing,
Whan that the brighte fonne gan to fpring,
In fwete accord, My lefe is fare in lond.

For thilke time, as I have understond,
Beftes and briddes couden fpeke and fing.
And fo befell that in a dawening

14880

14885

As Chaunteclere among his wives alle.
Sate on his perche that was in the halle,
And next him fate his faire Pertelote,
This Chaunteclere gan gronen in his throte
As man that in his dreme is dretched fore;

14890

And whan that, Pretelute thus herd him rore
She was agai, and faide, Herte dere!
What aileth you to grone in this manere?

Ye ben a veray fleper, fy for fhame!

14895

And he answered and fayde thus; Madame,

V. 14881. token in every lith] Locked in every limb. The editt. read joking.-Loken is ufed by Occleve in the firft of s poems mentioned in n. on ver. 5002.;

Lefte was the erles chamber dore unfioken,

To which he came, and fonde it was not loken.

. 14885. My lefe is fare in lond] Fare or faren, gone. Só the beft mff. Ed. Ca. 2, reads--fer. It is not easy to determine which of these is the true reading, uniefs we thould recover the old fong from which this paffage feems to be quoted.