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The Prologue to Sir Thopas

Bihold the murye wordes of the Host to Chaucer.

Whan seyd was al this miracle, every man

As sobre was, that wonder was to se,

Til that our hoste Iapen tho bigan,

And than at erst he loked up-on me,

And seyde thus, ‘what man artow?’ quod he; 

‘Thou lokest as thou woldest finde an hare,

For ever up-on the ground I see thee stare.

..

Approche neer, and loke up merily.

Now war yow, sirs, and lat this man have place;

He in the waast is shape as wel as I;

This were a popet in an arm tenbrace

For any womman, smal and fair of face.

He semeth elvish by his contenaunce,

For un-to no wight dooth he daliaunce.

..

Sey now somwhat, sin other folk han sayd;    

Tel us a tale of mirthe, and that anoon;’—

‘Hoste,’ quod I, ‘ne beth nat yvel apayd,

For other tale certes can I noon,

But of a ryme I lerned longe agoon.’

‘Ye, that is good,’ quod he; ‘now shul we here 

Som deyntee thing, me thinketh by his chere.’

Explicit.

Behold the merry words of the Host to Chaucer.

  When said was all this miracle, every man

As sober was, that wonder was to see,

Till that our host japen tho began,  

And then at erst he looked upon me,

And said thus, “What man art thou?” quoth he;

“Thou lookest as thou wouldst find an hare,

For ever upon the ground I see thee stare.

..

Approach near, and look up merrily.

Now ware you, sirs, and let this man have place;

He in the waist is shape as well as I;

This were a poppet in an arm t’embrace  

For any woman, small and fair of face.

He seemeth elvish by his countenance,

For unto no wight doeth he dalliance.

..

Say now somewhat, since other folk have said;

Tell us a tale of mirth, and that anon;”—

“Host,” quoth I, “ne beeth not evil apaid,

For other tale certes can I none,

But of a rhyme I learned long a-gon.”

“Yea, that is good,” quoth he; “now shall we hear

Some dainty thing, me thinketh by his cheer.”

Explicit.