The Canterbury tales
Geoffrey Chaucer
F.N. Robinson

The Words of the Host to the Prioress

Wel seyd, by corpus dominus, quod oure hoost,
     435
Now longe moote thou saille by the cost,
     436
Sire gentil maister, gentil maryneer!
     437
God yeve the monk a thousand last quade yeer!
     438
A ha! felawes! beth ware of swich a jape!
     439
The monk putte in the mannes hood an ape,
     440
And in his wyves eek, by seint austyn!
     441
Draweth no monkes moore unto youre in.
     442
But now passe over, and lat us seke aboute,
     443
Who shal now telle first of al this route
     444
Another tale; and with that word he sayde,
     445
As curteisly as it had been a mayde,
     446
My lady prioresse, by youre leve,
     447
So that I wiste I sholde yow nat greve,
     448
I wolde demen that ye tellen sholde
     449
A tale next, if so were that ye wolde.
     450
Now wol ye vouche sauf, my lady deere?
     451
Gladly, quod she, and seyde as ye shal heere.
     452