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,