The Canterbury Tales

Fragment I

The Cook's Tale

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Heere bigynneth the

Cookes Tale.

4365

A prentys whilom dwelled in oure citee,

And of a craft of vitailliers was hee.

Gaillard he was as goldfynch in the shawe,

Broun as a berye, a propre short felawe,

With lokkes blake, ykembd ful fetisly.

4370

Dauncen he koude so wel and jolily

That he was cleped perkyn revelour.

He was as ful of love and paramour

As is the hyve ful of hony sweete:

Wel was the wenche with hym myghte meete.

4375

At every bridale wolde he synge and hoppe;

He loved bet the taverne than the shoppe.

For whan ther any ridyng was in chepe,

Out of the shoppe thider wolde he lepe --

Til that he hadde al the sighte yseyn,

4380

And daunced wel, he wolde nat come ayeyn --

And gadered hym a meynee of his sort

To hoppe and synge and maken swich disport;

And ther they setten stevene for to meete,

To pleyen at the dys in swich a streete.

4385

For in the toune nas ther no prentys

That fairer koude caste a paire of dys

Than perkyn koude, and therto he was free

Of his dispense, in place of pryvetee.

That fond his maister wel in his chaffare;

4390

For often tyme he foond his box ful bare.

For sikerly a prentys revelour

That haunteth dys, riot, or paramour.

His maister shal it in his shoppe abye,

Al have he no part of the mynstralcye.

4395

For thefte and riot, they been convertible,

Al konne he pleye on gyterne or ribible.

Revel and trouthe, as in a lowe degree,

They been ful wrothe al day, as men may see.

this joly prentys with his maister bood,

4400

Til he were ny out of his prentishood,

Al were he snybbed bothe erly and late,

And somtyme lad with revel to newegate.

But atte laste his maister him bithoghte.

Upon a day, whan he his papir soghte,

4405

Of a proverbe that seith this same word,

Wel bet is roten appul out of hoord

Than that it rotie al the remenaunt.

So fareth it by a riotous servaunt;

It is ful lasse harm to lete hym pace,

4410

Than he shende alle the servantz in the place.

Therfore his maister yaf hym acquitance,

And bad hym go, with sorwe and with meschance!

And thus this joly prentys hadde his leve.

Now lat hym riote al the nyght or leve.

4415

And for ther is no theef withoute a lowke,

That helpeth hym to wasten and to sowke

Of that he brybe kan or borwe may,

Anon he sente his bed and his array

Unto a compeer of his owene sort,

4420

That lovede dys, and revel, and disport,

And hadde a wyf that heeld for contenance

A shoppe, and swyved for hir sustenance.

(not finished)