|
Whan that they coomen somwhat out of towne, |
| This somonour to his brother gan to rowne: |
| "Brother," quod he, "heere woneth an old rebekke, |
310 | That hadde almoost as lief to lese hire nekke |
| As for to yeve a peny of hir good. |
| I wole han twelf pens, though that she be wood, |
| Or I wol sompne hire unto oure office; |
| And yet, God woot, of hire knowe I no vice. |
315 | But for thou kanst nat, as in this contree, |
| Wynne thy cost, taak heer ensample of me." |
|
|
When they had come a little out of town, |
| This summoner whispered, to his brother drawn, |
| "Brother," said he, "here lives an ancient crone |
310 | Who'd quite as gladly lose her neck as own |
| She must give up a penny, good or bad. |
| But I'll have twelvepence, though it drive her mad |
| Or I will summon her to our office; |
| And yet God knows I know of her no vice. |
315 | But since you cannot, in this strange country, |
| Make your expenses, here take note of me." |
|