"A SHREWED CONCLUSIOUN."

But I on oother wise may be awreke,1

505

I shal disclaundre hym, over al ther I speke,—
This false blasphemour that charged me

To parte 2 that wol nat departed be, -
To every man yliche, with meschaunce ! "

The lord sat stille, as he were in a traunce,
And in his herte he rolled up and doun 12,259
"How hadde the cherl this ymaginacioun,
To shewe swich a probleme to the frere?
Nevere erst er now herd I of swich mateere;
I trowe the devel putte it in his mynde.
In ars-metrike shal ther no man fynde,
Biforn this day of swich a questioun. (7805 T.)
Certes, it was a shrewed conclusioun,
That every man sholde have yliche his part,
As of the soun or savour of a fart.

O vile proude cherl! I shrewe his face!
Lo, sires," quod the lord, with harde grace,
"Who evere herd of swich a thyng er now?
'To every man ylike,' — tel me how?
It is an inpossible, it may nat be.

12,272

Ey, nyce cherl? God lete thee nevere thee!
The rumblynge of a fart, and every soun,
Nis but of eir reverberacioun,

And evere it wasteth, litel and litel awey.

4

Ther is no man kan demen, by my fey!

If that it were departed equally.

What, lo, my cherl, lo, yet how shrewedly,

Elles. MS. has "but I on him oother weyes be wreke." Divide Cursed malicious. • Judge.

Un-to my confessour to day he spak;

12,281

I holde hym certeyn a demonyak.
Now ete youre mete, and lat the cherl go pleye.
Lat hym go honge hymself a devel weye!"

The wordes of the lordes Squier and his kerv ere for departynge of the fart on twelve.

Now stood the lordes Squier at the bord That karf his mete, and herde word by word Of alle thynges whiche that I have sayd; 'My lord," quod he, "beth nat yvele apayd;1 I koude telle for a gowne-clooth

To yow, sire frere, so ye be nat wrooth, 12,290 How that this fart evene delt shal be

Among youre covent, if it lyked me."

"Tel," quod the lord, "and thou shalt have

anon

A gowne-clooth, by God, and by Seint John!" "My lord," quod he, "whan that the weder is fair,

With-outen wynd, or perturbynge of air,
Lat brynge a cartewheel in-to this halle,-
But looke that it have his spokes alle,
Twelve spokes hath a cartwheel comunly;
And bryng me thanne twelf freres,

why?

- woot ye

12,300

For thritten 2 is a covent, as I gesse ;
The confessour heere, for his worthynesse,

1 Dissatisfied. 2 Elles. MS. has "twelve."

WORDES OF THE LORDES SQUIER.

507

Shal parfourne up1 the nombre of his covent. Thanne shal they knele doun, by oon assent, And to every spokes ende, in this manere, Ful sadly leye his nose shal a frere.

2

Youre noble confessour there, God hym save!
Shal holde his nose upright under the nave.
Thanne shal this cherl, with bely stif, and toght"
As any tabour, been hyder ybroght, 12,310
And sette hym on the wheel right of this cart,
Upon the nave, and make hym lete a fart,
And ye shul seen, up peril of my lyf,
By preeve which that is demonstratif,

12,320

That equally the soun of it wol wende, (7855 T.)
And eke the stynk, un-to the spokes ende, -
Save that this worthy man, youre confessour,
By-cause he is a man of greet honour,
Shal have the firste fruyt, as resoun is.
As yet the noble usage of freres is
The worthy men of hem shul first be served,
And certeinly, he hath it weel disserved,
He hath to day taught us so muchel good
With prechyng in the pulpit ther he stood,
That I may vouche-sauf, I sey for me,
He hadde the firste smel of fartes three,
And so wolde al the covent hardily,

He bereth hym so faire and hoolily."

The lord, the lady, and alle men save the frere,

Seyden that Jankyn spak in this matere 12,330

1 Complete. Firmly. The centre of the wheel. Taut.

As wel as Euclude, or Protholomee,
Touchynge this cherl; they seyden subtiltee
And heigh wit made hym speken as he spak;
He nys no fool, ne no demonyak;

And Jankyn hath ywonne a newe gowne.
My tale is doon,

we been almoost at towne.

Halt for Dinner, at Sittingbourne.

Heere folweth The Prologe of the Clerkes Tale of Oxenford.

"Sire Clerk of Oxenford," oure Hooste

sayde,

(7877 T.)

"Ye ryde as coy and stille as dooth a mayde
Were newe spoused, sittynge at the bord;
This day ne herde I of youre tonge a word.
I trowe ye studie aboute som sophyme ; 12,341
But Salomon seith 'every thyng hath tyme.'

"For Goddes sake! as beth of bettre cheere!
It is no tyme for to studien heere;
Telle us som myrie tale, by youre fey!
For what man that is entred in a pley,
He nedes moot unto the pley assente;
But precheth nat, as freres doon in lente,
To make us for oure olde synnes wepe,
Ne that thy tale make us nat to slepe. 12,350
"Telle us som murie thyng of aventures,
Youre termes, youre colours, and youre figures
Keepe hem in stoor til so be that ye endite

THE CLERK'S PROLOGUE.

509

Heigh style, as whan that men to kynges write; Speketh so pleyn at this tyme, we yow preye, That we may understonde what ye seye."

This worthy clerk benignely answerde, "Hoost," quod he, " I am under youre yerde,' Ye han of us, as now, the governance,

And therfore wol I do

yow obeisance

As fer as resoun axeth hardily.2

I wol yow telle a tale which that I
Lerned at Padwe of a worthy clerk,
As preved by his wordes and his werk;
He is now deed and nayled in his cheste,

12,360

I prey to God so geve his soule reste ! (7906 T.)

66

Fraunceys Petrak, the lauriat poete,

Highte this clerk whos rethorike sweete

Enlumyned al Ytaille of poetrie,—

8

As Lynyan dide of philosophie,

Or lawe, or oother art particuler,

4

But deeth, that wol nat suffre us * dwellen heer,
But as it were a twynklyng of an eye,
Hem bothe hath slayn, and alle shul we dye.
But forth to tellen of this worthy man
That taughte me this tale, as I bigan,

I seye that first with heigh stile he enditeth,
Er he the body of his tale writeth,

A prohemye, in the which discryveth he
Pemond, and of Saluces the contree; 12,380
And speketh of Apennyn, the hilles hye

1 Orders (literally, rod) • Certainly. Not in Elles. MS. 5 Piedmont. Saluzzo.

John cf Lignano