|
Sire preest," quod he, "artow a vicary? |
| Or arte a person? Sey sooth, by the fey! |
| Be what thou be, ne breke thou nat oure pley; |
| 25 | For every man, save thou, hath toold his tale. |
| Unbokele, and shewe us what is in thy male; |
| For, trewely, me thynketh by thy cheere |
| Thou sholdest knytte up wel a greet mateere. |
| Telle us a fable anon, for cokkes bones!" |
| 30 | This Persoun answerde, al atones, |
| "Thou getest fable noon ytoold for me; |
| For Paul, that writeth unto Thymothee, |
| Repreveth hem that weyven soothfastnesse, |
| And tellen fables and swich wrecchednesse. |
| 35 | Why sholde I sowen draf out of my fest, |
| Whan I may sowen whete, if that me lest? |
| For which I seye, if that yow list to heere |
| Moralitee and vertuous mateere, |
| And thanne that ye wol yeve me audience, |
| 40 | I wol ful fayn, at Cristes reverence, |
| Do yow plesaunce leefful, as I kan. |
| But trusteth wel, I am a southren man, |
| I kan nat geeste 'rum, ram, ruf,' by lettre, |
| Ne, God woot, ryn holde I but litel bettre; |
| 45 | And therfore, if yow list - I wol nat glose - |
| I wol yow telle a myrie tale in prose |
| To knytte up al this feeste, and make an ende. |
| And Jhesu, for his grace, wit me sende |
| To shewe yow the wey, in this viage, |
| 50 | Of thilke parfit glorious pilgrymage |
| That highte Jerusalem celestial. |
| And if ye vouche sauf, anon I shal |
| Bigynne upon my tale, for which I preye |
| Telle youre avys, I kan no bettre seye. |
|
| Sir preest," said he, "are you a vicar? |
| Or are you a parson? Tell the truth, by your faith |
| Be whatever you are, but break not the rules of the game |
| 25 | For every man, except you, has told his tale |
| Unbuckle and reveal us what is in your bag |
| For truly, it seems to me from your appearance |
| You could easily knit a great story. |
| Tell us some fiction straightway, for cock's bones." |
| 30 | The Parson answered, immediately, |
| "You will not get fiction told by me |
| Because Paul, who writes to Timothy |
| Reproves them that wave truthfulness |
| And tell fictional tales and such misery |
| 35 | Why should I sow chaff out of my hand, |
| When I wish to sow wheat on the land? |
| That is why I say, if you are pleased to hear, |
| Morality and virtuous subject matters, |
| And provided that you will give me your attention |
| 40 | I will very gladly, in respect of Christ |
| Give you persmissable delight, as far as I can. |
| But know well, I am a southern man |
| I cannot recite ´rum, ram, ruf,´ letter after letter |
| And, God knows, rime I consider but little better |
| 45 | And therefore, if you please - I will not lie - |
| I will tell you a merry tale in prose |
| To finish all this festivity and make an end |
| And Jesus, for his grave, send me wit |
| To show you the way, in this journey |
| 50 | Of that same perfect glorious pilgrimage |
| That is called Jerusalem celestial. |
| And if you agree, straightway I shall |
| Begin my tale, for which to you I pray |
| To tell your opinion, I cannot better say |
|
