The Prologue

This worthy limitour, this noble Frere, He made always a manner louring cheer Upon the Sompnour; but for honesty No villain word as yet to him spake he: But at the last he said unto the Wife: “Damë,” quoth he, “God give you right good life, Ye have here touched, all so may I thé, In school matter a greatë difficulty. Ye have said muchë thing right well, I say; But, Damë, here as we ride by the way, Us needeth not but for to speak of game, And leave authorities, in Goddë’s name, To preaching, and to school eke of clergy. But if it like unto this company, I will you of a Sompnour tell a game; Pardie, ye may well knowë by the name, That of a Sompnour may no good be said; I pray that none of you be evil paid; A Sompnour is a runner up and down With mandements for fornicatioún, And is y-beat at every townë’s end.” Then spake our Host; “Ah, sir, ye should be hend And courteous, as a man of your estate; In company we will have no debate: Tell us your tale, and let the Sompnour be.” “Nay,” quoth the Sompnour, “let him say by me What so him list; when it comes to my lot, By God, I shall him quiten every groat! I shall him tellë what a great honoúr It is to be a flattering limitour And his offíce I shall him tell y-wis.” Our Host answered, “Peace, no more of this.” And afterward he said unto the frere, “Tell forth your tale, mine owen master dear.”