When ended was my tale of Melibee, And of Prudénce and her benignity, Our Hostë said, “As I am faithful man, And by the precious corpus Madrian , I had lever than a barrel of ale, That goodë lefe my wife had heard this tale; For she is no thing of such patiénce As was this Meliboeus’ wife Prudénce. By Goddë’s bonës! when I beat my knaves She bringeth me the greatë clubbed staves, And crieth, ‘Slay the doggës every one, And break of them both back and ev’ry bone.’ And if that any neighëbour of mine Will not in church unto my wife incline, Or be so hardy to her to trespace, When she comes home she rampeth in my face, And crieth, ‘Falsë coward, wreak thy wife: By corpus Domini , I will have thy knife, And thou shalt have my distaff, and go spin.’ From day till night right thus she will begin. ‘Alas!’ she saith, ‘that ever I was shape To wed a milksop, or a coward ape, That will be overlad with every wight! Thou darest not stand by thy wifë’s right.’
“This is my life, but if that I will fight; And out at door anon I must me dight, Or ellës I am lost, but if that I Be, like a wildë lion, fool-hardý. I wot well she will do me slay some day Some neighëbour and thennë go my way; For I am perilous with knife in hand, Albeit that I dare not her withstand; For she is big in armës, by my faith! That shall he find, that her misdoth or saith. But let us pass away from this mattére. My lord the Monk,” quoth he, “be merry of cheer, For ye shall tell a talë truëlý. Lo, Rochester stands here fastë by. Ride forth, mine owen lord, break not our game. But by my troth I cannot tell your name; Whether shall I call you my lord Dan John, Or Dan Thomas, or ellës Dan Albon? Of what house be ye, by your father’s kin? I vow to God, thou hast a full fair skin; It is a gentle pasture where thou go’st; Thou art not like a penant or a ghost. Upon my faith thou art some officer, Some worthy sexton, or some cellarer. For by my father’s soul, as to my dome, Thou art a master