The Shipman's Prologue
Here biginneth the Shipmannes Prolog.
Our hoste up-on his stiropes stood anon,
And seyde, ‘good men, herkneth everich on;
This was a thrifty tale for the nones!
Sir parish prest,’ quod he, ‘for goddes bones,
Tel us a tale, as was thy forward yore.
I see wel that ye lerned men in lore
Can moche good, by goddes dignitee!’
The Persone him answerde, ‘benedicite!
What eyleth the man, so sinfully to swere?’
Our hoste answerde, ‘O Iankin, be ye there?
I smelle a loller in the wind,’ quod he.
‘How! good men,’ quod our hoste, ‘herkneth me;
Abydeth, for goddes digne passioun,
For we shal han a predicacioun;
This loller heer wil prechen us som-what.’
‘Nay, by my fader soule! that shal be nat,’
Seyde the Shipman; ‘heer he shal nat preche,
He shal no gospel glosen heer ne teche.
We leve alle in the grete god,’ quod he,
‘He wolde sowen som difficultee,
Or springen cokkel in our clene corn;
And therfor, hoste, I warne thee biforn,
My Ioly body shal a tale telle,
And I shal clinken yow so mery a belle,
That I shal waken al this companye;
But it shal nat ben of philosophye,
Ne physices, ne termes queinte of lawe;
Ther is but litel Latin in my mawe.’
Here endeth the Shipman his Prolog.
Here beginneth the Shipman’s Prologue.
Our Host upon his stirrups stood anon,
And said, “good men, harkneth everich one;
This was a thrifty tale for the nones!
Sir parish priest,” quoth he, “for god’s bones,
Tell us a tale, as was thy foreward yore.
I see well that ye learned men in lore
Can much good, by god’s dignity!”
The Parson him answered, “benedicite!
What aileth the man, so sinfully to swear?”
Our Host answered, “O Jankin, be ye there?
I smell a lollard in the wind,” quoth he.
“Now! good men,” quoth our host, “harkneth me;
Abideth, for god’s digne passion,
For we shall have a predication;
This lollard here will preachen us somewhat.”
“Nay, by my father’s soul! that shall he not,”
Said the Shipman; “here he shall not preach,
He shall no gospel glosen here ne teach.
We ’lieve all in the great god,” quoth he,
“He would sowen some difficulty,
Or springen cockle in our clean corn;
And therefore, host, I warn thee beforn,
My jolly body shall a tale tell,
And I shall clinken you so merry a bell,
That I shall waken all this company;
But it shall not be of philosophy,
Ne physices, ne terms quaint of law;
There is but little Latin in my maw.”
Here endeth the Shipman his Prologue.
