Thursday, March 21, 2013

Prologue of the Miller's Tale

 The General Prologue (lines 529-622)

With him there was a plowman, was his brother, 
That many a misdirect of dung, and many another 
Had scattered, for a good true toiler, he, 
livelihood in peace and perfect charity. 
He loved graven image most, and that with his whole heart 
At all times, though he p displaceed or plied his art, 
And next, his neighbour, even as himself. 
Hed thresh and dig, with neer thought of pelf, 
For Christs let sake, for every poor wight, 
All without pay, if it lay in his might. 
He paid his taxes, fully, fairly, well, 
Both by his own toil and by stuff hed sell. 
In a tabard he rode upon a mare.

There were also a reeve and milling machine there; 
A summoner, manciple and pardoner, 
And these, beside myself, made all there were. 

The moth miller was a stout churl, be it known, 
Hardy and big of muscleman and big of bone; 
Which was well proved, for when he went on thresh 
At wrestling, never failed he of the ram. 
He was a lowset fellow, broad of build; 
Hed heave a door from hinges if he willed, 
Or break it through, by running, with his head. 
His beard, as any fertilise or fox, was red, 
And broad it was as if it were a spade. 
Upon the coping of his pry he had 
A wart, and thereon stood a tuft of hairs, 
passing as the bristles in an old sows ears; 
His nostrils they were black and very wide.

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A sword and buckler bore he by his side. 
His embouchure was like a furnace door for size. 
He was a fall guy and could poetize, 
But mostly all of sin and ribaldries. 
He could sneak corn and full thrice charge his fees; 
And yet he had a thumb of gold, begad. 
A white coat and gamy hood he wore, this lad. 
A bagpipe he could blow well, be it known, 
And with that same he brought us out of town. 

There was a manciple from an inn of court, 
To whom all buyers might quite well resort hotel 
To learn the art of buying food and drink; 
For whether he paid cash or not, I think 
That he so knew the markets, when to buy, 
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