WIFE OF BATH'S PROLOGUE
Denmark to Ind, and as true, and so was he to me. I pray to God that sitteth in splendour to bless his soul, of his dear mercy. Now, if ye will hark, I will tell my tale."
Behold the words between the Summoner and the Friar.
The Friar laughed when he had hearkened to all this. "Now dame," quoth he, "as I hope for joy, this is a full long preamble of a tale!" And when the Summoner heard the Friar sing out, "Lo!" quoth he, "God's two arms! A friar will evermore be meddling. Lo, good men! a fly and a friar will fall in every dish and every affair. Why speakest thou of preambulation? What! amble, or trot, or stand still, or go sit down; thou hinderest our sport in this manner."
"Yea!" quoth the Friar, "wilt thou so, Sir Summoner? Now by my faith, ere I go, I shall tell such a tale or two of a summoner, that all the folk here shall laugh." "Now, Friar," quoth this Summoner, "I beshrew else thy face, and I beshrew myself, but I tell tales two or three of friars, ere I arrive at Sidingborne, as shall irk thine heart full sore, for well I wot thy patience is gone."
Our host cried, "Peace! and that straightway! let the woman tell her story," he said. "Ye fare as folk that be drunken with ale. Pray, dame, tell your story, and that is best." "All ready, sir, right as it pleaseth you," quoth she, "if I have permission of this worthy Friar." "Yes," quoth he, "tell forth, dame, and I will listen."
Here endeth the Wife of Bath her Prologue.
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