To amuse absolutely no one (including myself), I shall now present to you the prologue of the nun’s priest, my character:
" TT O ! good sir, no more of this," quoth the Knight. “What
ye have told us, in sooth, is enough and to spare, for
a little of heavy cheer sufficeth for most folk, I ween.
As for me, I say it is a great distress to hear of the sudden fall,
alas! of them who were wont to be in great wealth and ease.
But the contrary is joy and great delight, as when a man, who
hath been in poor estate, climbeth up and waxeth prosperous,
and there in prosperity abideth. Such a thing, as it seemeth
me, is gladsome; and of such a thing it were goodly to speak.”
“Yea!” quoth our host, “by Saint Paul’s bell, ye say right
sooth ; this monk, he clappeth his tongue with a din, and speaketh
of how ‘fortune covered with a cloud’ something I wot never
what; and also ye heard but now of a ‘Tragedy,’ and pardee,
no help is it for to bewail nor lament that which is done ; and eke,
as ye have said, it is a pain to hear the heaviness. Sir Monk,
no more of this, for the love of God; your tale annoyeth all
of us. Such talking is not worth a butterfly, for there is no mirth
therein, nor disport. Wherefore, Sir Monk or whatsoever your
name be, Dan Piers I pray you heartily tell us somewhat else,
for verily, if it were not for the clinking of the bells that hang on
your bridle all about by the King of heaven that died for us
all ! I should have fallen down ere this for sleep into the slough,
however miry it were. Then had your tale been all told in vain,
for certainly as these clerks say : ‘Where a man hath no audience,
it helpeth him naught to speak his mind.’ But I wot well I
shall know a good tale when I hear one. Sir, say somewhat of
hunting, I pray you.”
“Nay,” quoth the monk, “I list not to sport; let another tell
a tale now, sith I have told.”
Then spake our host with his rude broad speech, and said
unto the Nun’s Priest: “Come nearer, thou priest; come hither,
thou Sir John; tell us such a thing as may glad our hearts.
Though thou ride on a jade, be blithe! What though thy horse
be both foul and lank, reck not a bean, if he will serve thee.
Whatever be, look that thy heart be merry!”
“Yes, sir,” quoth he. “Yes, host, by my spurs! In sooth,
if I be not merry, may I be chid.” And right anon he hath
broached his tale, and thus he said unto all of us, this sweet
priest, this goodly man, Sir John.
