From Geoffrey Chaucer's "The Canterbury Tales", The Clerk's Tale, lines 21-56

From The Canterbury Tales:
The Clerk's Prologue
lines 21-56: The Clerk announces a tale that he has learned from Francis Petrarch

	This worthy clerk benignely answerde,
	"Hooste," quod he, "I am under youre yerde.
	Ye han of us as now the governance;
	And therfore wol I do yow obeisance
25	As fer as resoun axeth, hardily.
	I wol yow telle a tale, which that I
	Lerned at Padwe of a worthy clerk,
	As preved by his wordes and his werk.
	He is now deed, and nayled in his cheste;
30	I prey to God so yeve his soule reste.

	This worthy clerk, benignly he answered.
	"Good host," said he, "I am under your yard;
	You have of us, for now, the governance,
	And therefore do I make you obeisance
25	As far as reason asks it, readily.
	I will relate to you a tale that
	Learned once, at Padua, of a worthy clerk,
	As he proved by his words and by his work.
	He's dead, now, and nailed down his chest,
30	And I pray God to give his soul good rest!

	Fraunceys Petrark, the lauriat poete,
	Highte this clerk, whos rethorike sweete
	Enlumyned al Ytaille of poetrie,
	As Lynyan dide of philosophie,
35	Or lawe, or oother art particuler.
	But deeth, that wol nat suffre us dwellen heer
	But as it were a twynklyng of an eye,
	Hem bothe hath slayn, and alle shul we dye.
	But forth to tellen of this worthy man,
40	That taughte me this tale as I bigan,
	I seye, that first with heigh stile he enditeth
	Er he the body of his tale writeth,
	A prohemye in the which discryveth he
	Pemond, and of Saluces the contree,
45	And speketh of Apennyn, the hilles hye,
	That been the boundes of Westlumbardye;
	And of Mount Vesulus in special,
	Where as the Poo out of a welle smal
	Taketh his firste spryngyng and his sours,
50	That estward ay encresseth in his cours
	To Emele-ward, to Ferrare, and Venyse;
	The which a long thyng were to devyse.
	And trewely, as to my juggement,
	Me thynketh it a thyng impertinent,
55	Save that he wole conveyen his mateere;
	But this his tale, which that ye may heere."

	Francis Petrarch, the laureate poet,
	Was this clerk's name, whose rhetoric so sweet
	Illumed all Italy with poetry,
	As did Lignano with philosophy,
35	Or law, or other art particular;
	But Death, that suffers us not very far,
	Nor more, as 'twere, than twinkling of an eye,
	Has slain them both, as all of us shall die.
	But forth, to tell you of this worthy man,
40	Who taught this tale to me, as I began,
	I say that first, with high style he indites,
	Before the body of his tale he writes,
	A proem to describe those lands renowned,
	Saluzzo, Piedmont, and the region round,
45	And speaks of Apennines, those hills so high
	That form the boundary of West Lombardy,
	And of Mount Viso, specially, the tall,
	Whereat the Po, out of a fountain small,
	Takes its first springing and its tiny source
50	That eastward ever increases in its course
	Toward Emilia, Ferrara, and Venice;
	The which is a long story to devise.
	And truly, in my judgment reluctant
	It is a thing not wholly relevant,
55	Except that he introduces thus his gear:
	But this is his tale, which you now may hear.