The Canterbury Tales

Fragment VII

Sir Thopas' Prologue

――――――――――――――――――――――――――

Bihoold the murye Wordes

of the Hoost to Chaucer.

Whan seyd was al this miracle, every man

As sobre was that wonder was to se,

Til that oure hooste japen tho bigan,

And thanne at erst he looked upon me,

695

And seyde thus: what man artow? quod he;

Thou lookest as thou woldest fynde an hare,

For evere upon the ground I se thee stare.

Approche neer, and looke up murily.

Now war yow, sires, and lat this man have place!

700

He in the waast is shape as wel as I;

This were a popet in an arm t' enbrace

For any womman, smal and fair of face.

He semeth elvyssh by his contenaunce,

For unto no wight dooth he daliaunce.

705

Sey now somwhat, syn oother folk han sayd;

Telle us a tale of myrthe, and that anon.

Hooste, quod I, ne beth nat yvele apayd,

For oother tale certes kan I noon,

But of a rym I lerned longe agoon.

710

Ye, that is good, quod he; now shul we heere

Som deyntee thyng, me thynketh by his cheere.