Geoffrey Chaucer, The Canterbury Tales: General Prologue 25, The Proposal Of The Host - (A Minimalist Translation) Poem by Forrest Hainline

Geoffrey Chaucer, The Canterbury Tales: General Prologue 25, The Proposal of the Host - (A Minimalist Translation)

Now have I told you truly, in a clause,
The estate, the array, the number, and too the cause
Why that assembled was this company
In Southwerk at this gentle hostelry
Called the Tabard, fast by the Belle.
But now is time to you for to tell
How that we bore us that same night,
When we were in that hostelry allright;
And after will I tell of our voyage
And all the remnant of our pilgrimage.
But first I pray you, of your courtesy,
That you not ascribe it to my villainy,
Though that I plainly speak in this matter,
To tell you their words and their cheer.
Nor though I speak their words properly.
For this you know also well as I:
Whoso shall tell a tale after a man,
He must rehearse as nigh as ever he can
Every word, if it be in his charge,
All speak he never so rudely or large,
Or else he must tell his tale untrue,
Or feign things, or find words new.
He may not spare, although he were his brother;
He might as well say one word as another.
Christ spoke himself full broad in holy writ,
And well you kw no villainy is it.
Eek Plato said, whoso can him read,
The words must be cousin to the deed.
Also I pray you to forgive it me,
All have I not set folk in their degree
Here in this tale, as that they should stand.
My wit is short, you may well understand.

Great cheer made our Host us everyone,
And to the supper set he us anon.
He served us with vitaille at the best;
Strong was the wine, and well to drink us lest.
A seemly man our host was withall
For he'd been a marshal in a hall.
A large man he was with even step -
A fairer burgess was there none in Chepe -
Bold of his speech, and wise, and well taught,
And of manhood he lacked right naught.
Eek thereto he was right a merry man;
And after supper playing he began,
And spoke of mirth among other things,
When that we had made our reckonings,
And said thus: "Now, lords, truly,
You've been to me right welcome, heartily;
For by my troth, if that I shall not lie,
I saw not this year so merry a company
At once in this herber as is now.
Fain would I do you mirth, knew I how.
And of a mirth I am right now bethought,
To do you ease, and it shall cost naught.

"You're going to Canterbury - God you speed,
The blissful martyr quit you your meed!
And well I know, as you go on by the way,
You'll shape you to tell and to play;
For truly, comfort nor mirth is none
To ride by the way dumb as a stone;
And therefore will I make you disport,
As I said erst, and do you some comfort.
And if you like all by one assent
For to stand at my judgment,
And for to work, as I shall you say,
Tomorrow, when you ride by the way,
Now by my father's soul that is dead,
But you be merry, I will give you my head!
Hold up your hands, without more speech."

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Forrest Hainline