The Cook, that was full pale and nothing red, Said to Host, “So God my soulë bless, As there is fall’n on me such heaviness, I know not why, that me were lever 4922 sleep, Than the best gallon wine that is in Cheap.” “Well,” quoth the Manciple, “if it may do ease To thee, Sir Cook, and to no wight displease Which that here rideth in this company, And that our Host will of his courtesy, I will as now excuse thee of thy tale; For in good faith thy visage is full pale: Thine eyen dazë, 4923 soothly as me thinketh, And well I wot, thy breath full sourë stinketh, That sheweth well thou art not well disposed; Of me certáin thou shalt not be y-glosed. 4924 See how he yawneth, lo, this drunken wight, As though he would us swallow anon right. Hold close thy mouth, man, by thy father’s kin; The devil of hellë set his foot therein!