The Canterbury Tales, by Geoffrey Chaucer

Epilogue to the Marchantes Tale.

‘Ey! goddes mercy!’ seyde our Hoste tho,


‘Now swich a wyf I pray god kepe me fro!

Lo, whiche sleightes and subtilitees

In wommen been! for ay as bisy as bees

Ben they, us sely men for to deceyve,

And from a sothe ever wol they weyve;


By this Marchauntes Tale it preveth weel.

But doutelees, as trewe as any steel

I have a wyf, though that she povre be;


But of hir tonge a labbing shrewe is she,

And yet she hath an heep of vyces mo;


Ther-of no fors, lat alle swiche thinges go.

But, wite ye what? in conseil be it seyd,

Me reweth sore I am un-to hir teyd.

For, and I sholde rekenen every vyce

Which that she hath, y-wis, I were to nyce,


And cause why; it sholde reported be

And told to hir of somme of this meynee;

Of whom, it nedeth nat for to declare,


Sin wommen connen outen swich chaffare;

And eek my wit suffyseth nat ther-to


To tellen al; wherfor my tale is do.’

Heading. E. The Prologe of the Squieres Tale; Hn. Here folwen the Wordes of the Worthy Hoost to the Frankeleyn; Pt. The prologe of the Fraunkeleyn.   2419. E. oure Hoost; Hl. our hoste.   2421. Hl. subtilitees; E. Hn. subtiltees.   2424. E. Hn. sooth; Pt. Hl. soth (not sothe); see G. 167, 662.

Last updated Sunday, March 27, 2016 at 11:52