“And for my land thus hastow mordred me?
Er I be deed, yet wol I kisse thee.”
And neer he cam, and kneled faire adoun,
And seyde, “dere suster Alisoun, 804
As help me god, I shal thee never smyte;
That I have doon, it is thy-self to wyte.
Foryeve it me, and that I thee biseke”—
And yet eft- sones I hitte him on the cheke,
And seyde, “theef, thus muchel am I wreke; 809
Now wol I dye, I may no lenger speke.”
But atte laste, with muchel care and wo,
We fille acorded, by us selven two.
He yaf me al the brydel in myn hond
To han the governance of hous and lond,
And of his tonge and of his hond also, 815
And made him brenne his book anon right tho.
And whan that I hadde geten un-to me,
By maistrie, al the soveraynetee,
And that he seyde, “myn owene trewe wyf,
Do as thee lust the terme of al thy lyf,
Keep thyn honour, and keep eek myn estaat”—821
After that day we hadden never debaat.
God help me so, I was to him as kinde
As any wyf from Denmark un-to Inde,
And also trewe, and so was he to me. 825
I prey to god that sit in magestee,
So blesse his soule, for his mercy dere!
Now wol I seye my tale, if ye wol here.’
‘Now, dame,’ quod he, ‘so have I joye or blis, 830
This is a long preamble of a tale!’
And whan the Somnour herde the Frere gale,
‘Lo!’ quod the Somnour, ‘goddes armes two!
A frere wol entremette him ever-mo.
Lo, gode men, a flye and eek a frere 835
Wol falle in every dish and eek matere.
What spekestow of preambulacioun?
What! amble, or trotte, or pees, or go sit doun;
Thou lettest our disport in this manere.’
‘Ye, woltow so, sir Somnour?’ quod the Frere, 840
‘Now, by my feith, I shal, er that I go,
Telle of a Somnour swich a tale or two,
That alle the folk shal laughen in this place.’
‘Now elles, Frere, I bishrewe thy face,’
Quod this Somnour, ‘and I bishrewe me,
But-if I telle tales two or three 846
Of freres er I come to Sidingborne,
That I shal make thyn herte for to morne;
For wel I woot thy pacience is goon.’
Our hoste cryde ‘pees! and that anoon!’
And seyde, ‘lat the womman tell hir tale.851
Ye fare as folk that dronken been of ale.
Do, dame, tel forth your tale, and that is best.’
’Al redy, sir,’ quod she, ’right as yow lest,
If I have licence of this worthy Frere.’
‘Yis, dame,’ quod he, ‘tel forth, and I wol here.’ 856
Here endeth the Wyf of Bathe hir Prologe
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