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Here folweth the Prologe of the Persones Tale.
BY that the maunciple hadde his tale al ended, | |
| The sonne fro the south lyne was descended | |
| So lowe, that he nas nat, to my sighte, | |
| Degreës nyne and twenty as in highte. | |
| Foure of the clokke it was tho, as I gesse; | 5 |
| For eleven foot, or litel more or lesse, | |
| My shadwe was at thilke tyme, as there, | |
| Of swich feet as my lengthe parted were | |
| In six feet equal of proporcioun. | |
| Ther-with the mones exaltacioun, | 10 |
| I mene Libra, alwey gan ascende, | |
| As we were entringe at a thropes ende; | |
| For which our host, as he was wont to gye, | |
| As in this caas, our Ioly companye, | |
| Seyde in this wyse, ‘lordings everichoon, | 15 |
| Now lakketh us no tales mo than oon. | |
| Fulfild is my sentence and my decree; | |
| I trowe that we han herd of ech degree. | |
| Almost fulfild is al myn ordinaunce; | |
| I prey to god, so yeve him right good chaunce, | 20 |
| That telleth this tale to us lustily. | |
| Sir preest,’ quod he, ‘artow a vicary? | |
| Or art a person? sey sooth, by thy fey! | |
| Be what thou be, ne breke thou nat our pley; | |
| For every man, save thou, hath told his tale, | 25 |
| Unbokel, and shewe us what is in thy male; | |
| For trewely, me thinketh, by thy chere, | |
| Thou sholdest knitte up wel a greet matere. | |
| Tel us a tale anon, for cokkes bones!’ | |
| This Persone him answerde, al at ones, | 30 |
| ‘Thou getest fable noon y-told for me; | |
| For Paul, that wryteth unto Timothee, | |
| Repreveth hem that weyven soothfastnesse, | |
| And tellen fables and swich wrecchednesse. | |
| Why sholde I sowen draf out of my fest, | 35 |
| Whan I may sowen whete, if that me lest? | |
| For which I seye, if that yow list to here | |
| Moralitee and vertuous matere, | |
| And thanne that ye wol yeve me audience, | |
| I wol ful fayn, at Cristes reverence, | 40 |
| Do yow plesaunce leefful, as I can. | |
| But trusteth wel, I am a Southren man, | |
| I can nat geste—rum, ram, ruf—by lettre, | |
| Ne, god wot, rym holde I but litel bettre; | |
| And therfor, if yow list, I wol nat glose. | 45 |
| I wol yow telle a mery tale in prose | |
| To knitte up al this feeste, and make an ende. | |
| And Iesu, for his grace, wit me sende | |
| To shewe yow the wey, in this viage, | |
| Of thilke parfit glorious pilgrimage | 50 |
| That highte Ierusalem celestial. | |
| And, if ye vouche-sauf, anon I shal | |
| Biginne upon my tale, for whiche I preye | |
| Telle your avys, I can no bettre seye. | |
| But nathelees, this meditacioun | 55 |
| I putte it ay under correccioun | |
| Of clerkes, for I am nat textuel; | |
| I take but the sentens, trusteth wel. | |
| Therfor I make protestacioun | |
| That I wol stonde to correccioun.’ | 60 |
| Up-on this word we han assented sone, | |
| For, as us semed, it was for to done, | |
| To enden in som vertuous sentence, | |
| And for to yeve him space and audience; | |
| And bede our host he sholde to him seye, | 65 |
| That alle we to telle his tale him preye. | |
| Our host hadde the wordes for us alle:— | |
| ‘Sir preest,’ quod he, ‘now fayre yow bifalle! | |
| Sey what yow list, and we wol gladly here’— | |
| And with that word he seyde in this manere— | 70 |
| ‘Telleth,’ quod he, ‘your meditacioun. | |
| But hasteth yow, the sonne wol adoun; | |
| Beth fructuous, and that in litel space, | |
And to do wel god sende yow his grace!’
Explicit prohemium. | |
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