|
With this Chanoun I dwelt have seven yeer, |
| And of his science am I never the neer. |
| Al that I hadde I have lost therby, |
| 170 | And, God woot, so hath many mo than I. |
| Ther I was wont to be right fressh and gay |
| Of clothyng and of oother good array, |
| Now may I were an hose upon myn heed; |
| And wher my colour was bothe fressh and reed |
| 175 | Now is it wan and of a leden hewe - |
| Whoso it useth, soore shal he rewe! - |
| And of my swynk yet blered is myn ye. |
| Lo, which avantage is to multiplie! |
| That slidynge science hath me maad so bare |
| 180 | That I have no good, wher that evere I fare; |
| And yet I am endetted so therby, |
| Of gold that I have borwed, trewely, |
| That whil I lyve I shal it quite nevere. |
| Lat every man be war by me for evere! |
| 185 | What maner man that casteth hym therto, |
| If he continue, I holde his thrift ydo. |
| For so helpe me God, therby shal he nat wynne, |
| But empte his purs, and make his wittes thynne. |
| And whan he, thurgh his madnesse and folye, |
| 190 | Hath lost his owene good thurgh jupartye, |
| Thanne he exciteth oother folk therto, |
| To lesen hir good, as he hymself hath do. |
| For unto shrewes joye it is and ese |
| To have hir felawes in peyne and disese. |
| 195 | Thus was I ones lerned of a clerk. |
| Of that no charge, I wol speke of oure werk. |
|
|
Seven years I've served this canon, but no more |
| I know about his science than before. |
| All that I had I have quite lost thereby; |
| 170 | And, God knows, so have many more than I. |
| Where I was wont to be right fresh and gay |
| Of clothing and of other good array, |
| Now may I wear my old hose on my head; |
| And where my colour was both fresh and red, |
| 175 | Now it is wan and of a leaden hue; |
| Whoso this science follows, he shall rue. |
| And from my toil yet bleary is my eye, |
| Behold the gain it is to multiply! |
| That slippery science has made me so bare |
| 180 | That I've no goods, wherever I may fare; |
| And I am still indebted so thereby |
| For gold that I have borrowed, truthfully, |
| That while I live I shall repay it never. |
| Let every man be warned by me for ever! |
| 185 | And any man who casts his lot thereon, |
| If he continue, I hold his thrift gone. |
| So help me God, thereby he shall not win, |
| But empty purse and have his wits grow thin. |
| And when he, through his madness and folly, |
| 190 | Has lost his own, by willing jeopardy, |
| Then will he incite others, many a one, |
| To lose their wealth as he himself has done. |
| For unto scoundrels it's a pleasant thing |
| Their fellows in distress and pain to bring, |
| 195 | Thus was I taught once by a learned clerk. |
| Of that no matter, I'll speak of our work. |
|
