¶ The prologe of the Cokes Tale
The Cook of London / whil that the Reue spak
ffor ioye him thoughte / he clawed him on the bak
Ha . ha . quod he / for cristes passion
This Millere / hadde a sharpe conclusion
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Vpon his argument / of herbergage
Wel seyde Salomon / in his langage
Ne brynge nat every man in-to thyn hous
ffor herberwynge by nyghte is perilous
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Wel oghte a man / auysed for to be
Whom that he broghte / in-to his pryuetee
I pray to god / so yeue me sorwe and care
If euere sitthe / I highte Hogge of Ware
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Herde I a Millere / bettre yset a werk
He hadde a Iape of malice in the derk
But god forbede / that we stynte heere [hic]
And therfore / if ye vouche-sauf to heere [audire]
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A tale of me / that am a poure man
I wol yow telle / as wel as euere I kan
A litel iape / that fil in oure Citee
¶ Oure hoost answerde / and seide I graunte it thee
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Now telle on Roger / looke that it be good
ffor many a pastee / hastow laten blood
And many a Iakke of Douere hastow soold
That hath been / twies hoot and twies coold
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Of many a pilgrym / hastow cristes curs
ffor of thy percely / yet they fare the wors
That they han eten / with thy stubbel goos
ffor in thy shoppe / is many a flye loos
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Now telle on / gentil Roger by thy name
But yet I pray thee / be nat wroth for game
A man may seye ful sooth / in game and pley [folio 51a]
¶ Thou seist ful sooth / quod Roger by my fey
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