|
The COOK of Londoun, whil the Reve spak, |
| For joye him thoughte, he clawed him on the bak. |
| "Ha! ha!" quod he, "for Criste passioun, |
| This miller hadde a sharp conclusioun |
| 5 | Upon his argument of herbergage. |
| Wel seyde Salomon in his langage, |
| `Ne bryng nat every man into thyn hous,' |
| For herberwynge by nyghte is perilous. |
| Wel oghte a man avysed for to be, |
| 10 | Whom that be broghte into his pryvetee. |
| I pray to God so yeve me sorwe and care, |
| If evere sitthe I highte Hogge of Ware, |
| Herde I a millere bettre yset awerk. |
| He hadde a jape of malice in the derk. |
| 15 | But God forbede that we stynte heere, |
| And therfore, if ye vouche-sauf to heere |
| A tale of me that am a povre man, |
| I wol yow telle, as wel as evere I kan, |
| A litel jape that fil in oure citee." |
|
| The cook from London, while the reeve yet spoke, |
| Patted his back with pleasure at the joke. |
| "Ha, ha!" laughed he, "by Christ's great suffering, |
| This miller had a mighty sharp ending |
| 5 | Upon his argument of harbourage! |
| For well says Solomon, in his language, |
| 'Bring thou not every man into thine house;' |
| For harbouring by night is dangerous. |
| Well ought a man to know the man that he |
| 10 | Has brought into his own security. |
| I pray God give me sorrow and much care |
| If ever, since I have been Hodge of Ware, |
| Heard I of miller better brought to mark. |
| A wicked jest was played him in the dark. |
| 15 | But God forbid that we should leave off here; |
| And therefore, if you'll lend me now an ear, |
| From what I know, who am but a poor man, |
| I will relate, as well as ever I can, |
| A little trick was played in our city." |
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