So that the wolf ne made it not myscarye;
He was a schepherde and no mercenarie.
And though he holy were, and vertuous,
He was to sinful man nought despitoùs,
Ne of his speché daungerous ne digne,
But in his teching discret and benigne.
To drawé folk to heven by fairénesse
By good ensample, this was his busynesse:
But it were eny persone obstinat,
What so he were, of high or lowe estat,
Him wolde he snybbé scharply for the nonés.
A bettre preest, I trowe, ther nowher non is.
He waytede after no pompe and reverence,
Ne makede him a spiced conscience,
But Cristés lore, and his apostles twelve,
He taughte, but first he folwede it himselve.
With him ther was a PLOUGHMAN, was his
That hadde i-lad of dong ful many a fother,
A trewé swynkere and a good was he,
Lyvynge in pees and perfight charitee.
God lovede he best with al his hoolé herte
At allé tymés, though him gamede or smerte,
And thanne his neighébour right as himselve.
He woldé thresshe, and therto dyke and delve,
For Cristés sake, with every pouré wight,
Withouten hyre, if it laye in his might.
His tythés payéde he ful faire and wel,
Bothe of his owné swynk and his catel.
In a tabard he rood upon a mere.
Ther was also a Reeve and a Mellere,
A Sompnour and a Pardoner also,
A Maunciple, and my self, ther wer no mo.
The MELLERE was a stout carl for the nones, Ful big he was of braun, and eek of boones; That prevede wel, for overal ther he cam,
At wrastlynge he wolde have alwey the ram.
He was schort schuldred, brood, a thikké
Ther nas no dore that he nolde heve of harre,
Or breke it at a rennyng with his heed.
His berd as ony sowe or fox was reed,
And therto brood, as though it were a spade.
Upon the cop right of his nose he hade
A werte, and theron stood a tuft of heres,
Reede as the berstles of a sowés eeres.
His nosé-thurlés blaké were and wyde.
A swerd and bokeler baar he by his side,
His mouth as wyde was as a gret forneys.
He was a janglere and a golyardeys,
And that was most of synne and harlotries.
Wel cowde he stelé corn, and tollen thries;
And yet he hadde a thombe of gold pardè.
A whit cote and a blew hood werede he.
A baggépipe wel cowde he blowe and sowne,
And therwithal he broughte us out of towne.
A gentil MAUNCIPLE was ther of a temple,
Of which achàtours mighten take exemple
For to be wyse in beyying of vitaille.
For whether that he payde, or took by taille,
Algate he waytede so in his achate,
That he was ay biforn and in good state.
Now is not that of God a ful fair grace,
That such a lewéd mannés wit schal pace
The wisdom of an heep of lernede men?
Of maystres hadde he moo than thriés ten,
That were of lawe expert and curious;
Of which ther were a doseyne in that hous,
Worthi to ben stiwàrdes of rente and lond
Of any lord that is in Engélond,
To make him lyvé by his propre good,
In honour detteles, but-if he were wood,
Or lyve as scarsly as hym list desire;
And able for to helpen al a schire
In any caas that mighté falle or happe;
And yit this maunciple sette here aller cappe.
The REEVE was a sklendre colerik man,
His berd was schave as neigh as evere he
His heer was by his eres ful round i-shorn.
His top was dockéd lyk a preest biforn.
Ful longé wern his leggés, and ful lene,
Y-lik a staf, ther was no calf y-sene.
Wel cowde he kepe a gerner and a bynne;
Ther was non auditour cowde on him wynne.
Wel wiste he by the droughte, and by the
The yeeldyng of his seed, and of his greyn.
His lordés scheep, his neet, his dayerie,
His swyn, his hors, his stoor, and his pultrie,
Was holly in this reevés governynge,
And by his covenaunt yaf the rekenynge,
Syn that his lord was twenti yeer of age;
Ther couthe no man bringe him in arrerage.
Ther nas baillif, ne herde, ne other hyne,
That he ne knew his sleighte and his covyne;
They were adrad of him, as of the dethe.
His wonyng was ful fair upon an hethe,
With grené trees i-schadwed was his place.
He cowdé bettre than his lord purchace.
Ful riche he was astored privély,
His lord wel couthe he plesé subtilly,
To yeve and lene him of his owné good,
And have a thank, and yet a cote, and hood.
In youthe he lernéd hadde a good mester;
He was a wel good wrighte, a carpenter.
This reevé sat upon a ful good stot,
That was al pomely gray, and highté Scot.
A long surcote of pers uppon he hade,
And by his side he bar a rusty blade.
Of Northfolk was this reeve of which I telle,
Byside a toun men clepen Baldeswelle.
Tukkéd he was, as is a frere, aboute,
And evere he rood the hyndreste of the route.
A SOMPNOUR was ther with us in that place,
That hadde a fyr-reed cherubynés face,
For sawcéflem he was, with eyghen narwe.
And hoot he was, and lively, as a sparwe,
With skalled browés blake, and piléd berd;
Of his visagé children weren aferd.
Ther nas quyksilver, litarge, ne bremstoon,
Boras, ceruce, ne oille of tartre noon,
Ne oynément that woldé clense and byte,
That him mighte helpen of his whelkés white,
Ne of the knobbés sittyng on his cheekes.
Wel lovede he garleek, oynouns, and ek leekes,
And for to drinké strong wyn reed as blood.
Thanne wolde he speke, and crye as he were
wood.
And whan that he wel dronken hadde the wyn,
Than wolde he speké no word but Latyn.
A fewé termés hadde he, tuo or thre,
That he hadde lernéd out of som decree;
No wonder is, he herde it al the day;
And eek ye knowen wel, how that a jay
|