Puslapio vaizdai
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C. WHITTINGHAM, TOOKS COURT, CHANCERY LANE.

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THE

CANTERBURY TALES.

THE PERSONES PROLOGUE.

By that the Manciple had his tale ended,
The sonne fro the south line was descended
So lowe, that it ne was not to my sight
Degrees nine and twenty as of hight.
Foure of the clok it was tho, as I

gesse,
For enleven foot, a litel more or lesse,
My shadow was at thilke time, as there,
Of swiche feet as my lengthe parted were
In six feet equal of proportion.

Therwith the mones exaltation,

In mene Libra, alway gan ascende,
As we were entring at the thorpes ende.
For which our hoste, as he was wont to gie,
As in this cas, our jolly compagnie,
Said in this wise; lordings, everich on,
Now lacketh us no tales mo than on.
Fulfilled is my sentence and my decree;
I trowe that we han herd of eche degree.
Almost fulfilled is myn ordinance;

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I pray to God so yeve him right good chance, 17331
That telleth us this tale lustily.

Sire preest, quod he, art thou a vicary?
Or art thou a Person? say soth by thy fay.
Be what thou be, ne breke thou not our play;
For every man, save thou, hath told his tale.
Unbokel, and shew us what is in thy male.
For trewely me thinketh by thy chere,
Thou shuldest knitte up wel a gret matere.
Tell us a fable anon, for cockes bones.

This Person him answered al at ones;
Thou getest fable non ytold for me,
For Poule, that writeth unto Timothe,
Repreveth hem that weiven sothfastnesse,
And tellen fables, and swiche wretchednesse.
Why shuld I sowen draf out of my fist,
Whan I may sowen whete, if that me list?
For which I say, if that you list to here
Moralitee, and vertuous matere,
And than that ye wol yeve me audience,
I wold ful fain at Cristes reverence
Don you plesance leful, as I can.
But trusteth wel, I am a sotherne man,

I cannot geste, rom, ram, ruf, by my letter,
And, God wote, rime hold I but litel better.
And therfore if you list, I wol not glose,

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