|
"Pardee," quod oon, "somwhat of oure metal |
390 | Yet is ther heere, though that we han nat al. |
| Although this thyng myshapped have as now, |
| Another tyme it may be well ynow. |
| Us moste putte oure good in aventure. |
| A marchant, pardee, may nat ay endure, |
395 | Trusteth me wel, in his prosperitee. |
| Somtyme his good is drowned in the see, |
| And somtyme comth it sauf unto the londe." |
| "Pees!" quod my lord, the nexte tyme I wol fonde |
| To bryngen oure craft al in another plite, |
400 | And but I do, sires, lat me han the wite. |
| Ther was defaute in somwhat, wel I woot." |
|
|
"By gad," said one, "something of our metal |
390 | There is yet here, although we have not all. |
| Although this thing has gone awry for now, |
| Another time it may be well enow. |
| We must put all our wealth at adventure; |
| A merchant's luck, gad! will not aye endure, |
395 | Believe me, in his high prosperity; |
| Sometimes his freight will sink beneath the sea, |
| And sometimes comes it safely unto land." |
| "Peace," said my lord, "next time I'll understand |
| How to proceed and with a better aim; |
400 | And, save I do, sirs, let me be to blame; |
| There was defect in something, well I know 't." |
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