| "Hoo!" quod the Knyght, "good sire, namoore of this! |
| That ye han seyd is right ynough, ywis, |
| And muchel moore; for litel hevynesse |
| 2770 | Is right ynough to muche folk, I gesse. |
| I seye for me, it is a greet disese, |
| Whereas men han been in greet welthe and ese, |
| To heeren of hire sodeyn fal, allas! |
| And the contrarie is joye and greet solas, |
| 2775 | As whan a man hath been in povre estaat, |
| And clymbeth up and wexeth fortunat, |
| And there abideth in prosperitee. |
| Swich thyng is gladsom, as it thynketh me, |
| And of swich thyng were goodly for to telle." |
| 2780 | "Ye," quod oure Hooste, "by Seint Poules belle! |
| Ye seye right sooth; this Monk he clappeth lowde. |
| He spak how Fortune covered with a clowde |
| I noot nevere what; and als of a tragedie |
| Right now ye herde, and pardee, no remedie |
| 2785 | It is for to biwaille ne compleyne |
| That that is doon, and als it is a peyne, |
| As ye han seyd, to heere of hevynesse. |
| "Sire Monk, namoore of this, so God yow blesse! |
| Youre tale anoyeth al this compaignye. |
| 2790 | Swich talkyng is nat worth a boterflye, |
| For therinne is ther no desport ne game. |
| Wherfore, sire Monk, daun Piers by youre name, |
| I pray yow hertely telle us somwhat elles; |
| For sikerly, nere clynkyng of youre belles |
| 2795 | That on youre bridel hange on every syde, |
| By hevene kyng that for us alle dyde, |
| I sholde er this han fallen doun for sleep, |
| Althogh the slough had never been so deep; |
| Thanne hadde your tale al be toold in veyn. |
| 2800 | For certeinly, as that thise clerkes seyn, |
| Whereas a man may have noon audience, |
| Noght helpeth it to tellen his sentence. |
| "And wel I woot the substance is in me, |
| If any thyng shal wel reported be. |
| 2805 | Sir, sey somwhat of huntyng, I yow preye." |
| "Nay," quod this Monk, "I have no lust to pleye. |
| Now lat another telle, as I have toold." |
| Thanne spak oure Hoost with rude speche and boold, |
| And seyde unto the Nonnes Preest anon, |
| 2810 | "Com neer, thou preest, com hyder, thou sir John! |
| Telle us swich thyng as may oure hertes glade. |
| Be blithe, though thou ryde upon a jade. |
| What thogh thyn hors be bothe foul and lene? |
| If he wol serve thee, rekke nat a bene. |
| 2815 | Looke that thyn herte be murie everemo." |
| "Yis, sir," quod he, "yis, Hoost, so moot I go, |
| But I be myrie, ywis I wol be blamed." |
| And right anon his tale he hath attamed, |
| And thus he seyde unto us everichon, |
| 2820 | This sweete preest, this goodly man sir John. |