And with this speech the Cook waxed all wraw, And on the Manciple he gan nod fast For lack of speech; and down his horse him cast, Where as he lay, till that men him up took. This was a fair chevachie of a cook: Alas! that he had held him by his ladle! And ere that he again were in the saddle There was great shoving bothë to and fro To lift him up, and muchë care and woe, So unwieldy was this silly paled ghost. And to the Manciple then spake our Host: “Because that drink hath dominatión Upon this man, by my salvatión I trow he lewëdly will tell his tale. For were it wine, or old or moisty ale, That he hath drunk, he speaketh in his nose, And sneezeth fast, and eke he hath the pose. He also hath to do more than enough To keep him on his capel out of the slough; And if he fall from off his capel eftsoon, Then shall we allë have enough to do’n In lifting up his heavy drunken corse. Tell on thy tale, of him make I no force. But yet, Manciple, in faith thou art too nice Thus openly to reprove him of his vice; Another day he will paráventúre Reclaimë thee, and bring thee to the lure; I mean, he speakë will of smallë things, As for to pinchen at thy reckonings, That were not honest, if it came to prefe.”
Quoth the Manciple, “That were a great mischíef; So might he lightly bring me in the snare. Yet had I lever payë for the mare Which he rides on, than he should with me strive. I will not wrathë him, so may I thrive) That that I spake, I said it in my bourde. And weet ye what? I have here in my gourd A draught of wine, yea, of a ripë grape, And right anon ye shall see a good jape. This Cook shall drink thereof, if that I may; On pain of my life he will not say nay.” And certainly, to tellen as it was, Of this vessél the cook drank fast (alas! What needed it? he drank enough beforn), And when he haddë pouped in his horn, To the Manciple he took the gourd again. And of that drink the Cook was wondrous fain, And thanked him in such wise as he could.
Then gan our Host to laughë wondrous loud, And said, “I see well it is necessary Where that we go good drink with us to carry; For that will turnë rancour and disease T’ accord and love, and many a wrong