The Squire's Epilogue
Here folwen the wordes of the Frankelin to the Squier, and the wordes of the Host to the Frankelin.
’In feith, Squier, thou hast thee wel y-quit,
And gentilly I preise wel thy wit,’
Quod the Frankeleyn, ‘considering thy youthe,
So feelingly thou spekest, sir, I allow the!
As to my doom, there is non that is here
Of eloquence that shal be thy pere,
If that thou live; god yeve thee good chaunce,
And in vertu sende thee continuaunce!
For of thy speche I have greet deyntee.
I have a sone, and, by the Trinitee,
I hadde lever than twenty pound worth lond,
Though it right now were fallen in myn hond,
He were a man of swich discrecioun
As that ye been! fy on possessioun
But-if a man be vertuous with-al.
I have my sone snibbed, and yet shal,
For he to vertu listeth nat entende;
But for to pleye at dees, and to despende,
And lese al that he hath, is his usage.
And he hath lever talken with a page
Than to comune with any gentil wight
Ther he mighte lerne gentillesse aright.’—
‘Straw for your gentillesse,’ quod our host;
‘What, frankeleyn? pardee, sir, wel thou wost
That eche of yow mot tellen atte leste
A tale or two, or breken his biheste.’
‘That knowe I wel, sir,’ quod the frankeleyn;
‘I prey yow, haveth me nat in desdeyn
Though to this man I speke a word or two.’
‘Telle on thy tale with-outen wordes mo.’
‘Gladly, sir host,’ quod he, ‘I wol obeye
Un-to your wil; now herkneth what I seye.
I wol yow nat contrarien in no wyse
As fer as that my wittes wol suffyse;
I prey to god that it may plesen yow,
Than woot I wel that it is good y-now.'
“In faith, Squire, thou hast thee well y-quit,
And gentilly I praise well thy wit,”
Quoth the Franklin, “considering thy youth,
So feelingly thou speakest, sir, I allow thee!
As to my doom, there is none that is here
Of eloquence that shall be thy peer,
If that thou live; god give thee good chance,
And in virtue send thee continuance!
For of thy speech I have great dainty.
I have a son, and, by the Trinity,
I had liefer than twenty pound worth land,
Though it were right now fallen in mine hand,
He were a man of such discretion
As that ye be! fie on possession
But if a man be virtuous withal.
I have my son snibbed, and yet shall,
For he to virtue listeth not intend;
But for to play at dice, and to dispend,
And lose all that he hath, is his usage.
And he hath rather talken with a page
Than to commune with any gentil wight
Where he might learn gentilesse a-right.”—
“Straw for your gentilesse!” quoth our host;
“What, franklin! pardee, sir, well thou wist
That each of you mote tellen at least
A tale or two, or breaken his behest.”
“That know I well, sir,” quoth the franklin;
“I pray you, haveth me not in disdain
Though to this man I speak a word or two.”
“Tell on thy tale withouten words mo’.”
“Gladly, sir host,” quoth he, “I will obey
Unto your will; now harkeneth what I say.
I will you not contraryen in no wise
As far as that my wits will suffice.
I pray to god that it may pleasen you,
Then wot I well that it is good enough.”
