The Monk's Prologue
Folio 168r
1 of 3 folios
¶ The murye wordes of the Hoost / to the Monk ~
WHan ended / was my tale / of Melibee
And of Prudence / and hir benignytee
Oure hoost seyde / as I am feithful man
And by that percious corpus Madrian
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I hadde leuere / than a barel ale
That good lief my wyf / hadde herd this tale
She nys no thyng / of swich pacience
As was this Melibeus wyf Prudence
By goddes bones / whan I bete my knaues
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She bryngeth me forth / the grete clobbed staues
And crieth / slee the dogges euerichoon
And brek / hem / bothe bak and euery boon
¶ And if that any neighebore of myne
Wol nat in chirche / to my wyf enclyne
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Or be so hardy / to hir to trespace
Whan she comth / she rampeth in my face
And crieth / false coward / wrek thy wyf /
By corpus bones / I wol haue thy knyf
And thou shalt haue my distaf and go spynne
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Fro day to nygħt / rigħt thus she wol bigynne
Allas she seith / that euere þt I was shape
To wedden a Milksope / or a coward Ape
That wol been ouerlad with euery wigħt
Thou darst nat stonden by thy wyues rigħt
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¶ This is my lif but if that I wol figħte
And out at dore / anon I moot me digħte
Or elles I am but lost but if that I
Be lik a wilde Leoū fool hardy
I woot wel / she wol do me slee som day
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Som neighebore / and thanne go my way
For I am perilous / with knyf in honde
Al be it that I dar hir nat withstonde
For she is / byg in Armes by my feitħ
That shal he fynde / þt hir mysdooth or seith
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But lat vs passe awey / fro this mateere
¶ My lord the Monk quod he / be myrie of cheere
For ye shul telle a tale trewely
Loo Rouchestre / stant heer faste by
Ryde forth myn owene lord / brek nat oure game
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But by my trouthe / I knowe nat youre name
Wher shal I calle yow / my lord daun Ioħn
Or daun Thomas / or elles daun Alboñ
Of what hous be ye / by youre fader kyn
I vowe to god / thou hast a ful fair skyn