The Canterbury Tales of Chaucer modernis'd by several hands. Publsh'd by Mr. Oggle |
 | I. |
 | II. |
PROLOGUE TO THE COOK's TALE. |
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 | The Canterbury Tales of Chaucer |  |
PROLOGUE TO THE COOK's TALE.
By Mr. OGLE.
Close, by the Reve, the Cook of London rides,
And claps Him on the Back, and bursts his Sides.
“Passion of Christ! (He cry'd, with Laughter fraught
“Sir Reve, You ended with a hum'rous Thought)
“Was e'er so justly handled in the Dark,
“Felonious Miller by lascivious Clark?
“Well was it said, by Hermit in his Cave,
“Notorious Knave will catch notorious Knave.
“And slip'ry Hands They have, the Truth to tell,
“Who grind the Meal, or study in the Cell.
And claps Him on the Back, and bursts his Sides.
“Passion of Christ! (He cry'd, with Laughter fraught
“Sir Reve, You ended with a hum'rous Thought)
“Was e'er so justly handled in the Dark,
“Felonious Miller by lascivious Clark?
“Well was it said, by Hermit in his Cave,
“Notorious Knave will catch notorious Knave.
“And slip'ry Hands They have, the Truth to tell,
“Who grind the Meal, or study in the Cell.
“But for the Argument of Board and Bed,
“Much, wou'd the Time permit, might here be said.
“Make This, says Solomon, your standing Rule,
“(And Solomon, You know, was far from Fool)
“'Tis perilous Trust to harbour Man by Night,
“He may be Foe or Friend, unknown of Sight;
“But Folly to receive Him as a Friend,
“Who, if a Foe, thy Ruin may intend!
“Yet, sure as I was christen'd Hodge of Ware,
“Or be my Life one Scene of Toil and Care,
“Never was yet a Match more equal found;
“Than These, that came to grind, and Those that ground.
“Much, wou'd the Time permit, might here be said.
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“(And Solomon, You know, was far from Fool)
“'Tis perilous Trust to harbour Man by Night,
“He may be Foe or Friend, unknown of Sight;
“But Folly to receive Him as a Friend,
“Who, if a Foe, thy Ruin may intend!
“Yet, sure as I was christen'd Hodge of Ware,
“Or be my Life one Scene of Toil and Care,
“Never was yet a Match more equal found;
“Than These, that came to grind, and Those that ground.
“But Heav'n forbid, that here the Sport should stand;
“No, rather be it thrown from Hand to Hand.
“And tho' not overus'd, to write, or read,
“My Tale perhaps may pass, if not succeed;
“As Bad, in want of Better, may go down:
“For, tho' no Scholar, yet I know the Town.”
“No, rather be it thrown from Hand to Hand.
“And tho' not overus'd, to write, or read,
“My Tale perhaps may pass, if not succeed;
“As Bad, in want of Better, may go down:
“For, tho' no Scholar, yet I know the Town.”
‘Roger (reply'd our Host) thy Tale recite,
‘I sign the Grant. But see, thy Tale be right;
‘The Turn divertive, or the Moral good.
‘Of many a Pasty hast Thou drawn the Blood;
‘And many a Jack of Dover hast Thou sold,
‘For fresh, tho' twice 'twas hot, and twice 'twas cold;
‘Disguis'd in Sawce, that none knew what to call,
‘Confounding Sow'r and Sweet, the Devil and All:
‘Of which when hungry Pilgrim fares the worse,
‘He growls, and sends Thee many a holy Curse,
‘Blasphemes thy Stubble Goose, with Parsley stor'd,
‘And ev'ry Fly that taints thy Larder Board.
‘But, Hodge of Ware, I call Thee by thy Name,
‘In Serious take not, what is said in Game.
‘We border near in Trade; excuse the Jest:
‘I only mean to rouse You to your Best.’
‘I sign the Grant. But see, thy Tale be right;
‘The Turn divertive, or the Moral good.
‘Of many a Pasty hast Thou drawn the Blood;
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‘For fresh, tho' twice 'twas hot, and twice 'twas cold;
‘Disguis'd in Sawce, that none knew what to call,
‘Confounding Sow'r and Sweet, the Devil and All:
‘Of which when hungry Pilgrim fares the worse,
‘He growls, and sends Thee many a holy Curse,
‘Blasphemes thy Stubble Goose, with Parsley stor'd,
‘And ev'ry Fly that taints thy Larder Board.
‘But, Hodge of Ware, I call Thee by thy Name,
‘In Serious take not, what is said in Game.
‘We border near in Trade; excuse the Jest:
‘I only mean to rouse You to your Best.’
“Right, by my Faith, quoth Roger, what You say;
“In Play admit what You advance in Play.
“This is the only Rule for Converse fit;
“Yet Who so touchy as a flashy Wit?
“Backward, to bear! As, forward, to provoke!
“Who gives a Joke, 'tis True, should take a Joke.
“And therefore, Harry Ballie, blith of Heart!
“I mean to state Accounts before We part.
“Nor You with Choler boil, nor Anger burn,
“If, to an Inn, the Scene of Laughter turn;
“There shou'd I treat You with a goodly Host,
“Put down, in Payment due, a Cook to roast.
“All Functions have their Good and Bad, believe!
“Whate'er may judge the Miller or the Reve;
“And tho', or yours, or mine produc'd a Rook,
“What is't to You, mine Host! or Me, your Cook?
“Unless the like of Us our Neighbors say,
“For that's the Test of Man, or Priest, or Lay.
“In Play admit what You advance in Play.
“This is the only Rule for Converse fit;
“Yet Who so touchy as a flashy Wit?
“Backward, to bear! As, forward, to provoke!
“Who gives a Joke, 'tis True, should take a Joke.
“And therefore, Harry Ballie, blith of Heart!
“I mean to state Accounts before We part.
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“If, to an Inn, the Scene of Laughter turn;
“There shou'd I treat You with a goodly Host,
“Put down, in Payment due, a Cook to roast.
“All Functions have their Good and Bad, believe!
“Whate'er may judge the Miller or the Reve;
“And tho', or yours, or mine produc'd a Rook,
“What is't to You, mine Host! or Me, your Cook?
“Unless the like of Us our Neighbors say,
“For that's the Test of Man, or Priest, or Lay.
“But lest it shou'd be thought, I mean to rail,
“Or fret, like Oswalde; I defer the Tale.
“Nay, to mine Host, who seems full well inclin'd,
“Will sketch a Story to his Hand and Mind.
“The Flow'r of Cooks, young Perkin, let Him take,
“Whose Christian Name was lost in That of Rake.
“And, tho' our Office scarce requires a Beau,
“This Lad was all for Vanity and Show!
“Chearful, He was, as Gold-finch in a Grove;
“Of Jollity, as full! As full, of Love!
“His Size, was proper! his Complexion, brown!
“And round and red his Lips, and soft as Down!
“Black was his Hair, thick furnishing his Head;
“And neatly drest, the Length his Shoulders spred!
“Well cou'd He tune his Voice, and turn his Feet;
“As Hive of Honey, He of Sport repleat!
“At ev'ry Marriage, First to lead the Hop;
“And more He lov'd the Tavern than the Shop.
“March'd but the City-bands along the Cheap,
“From off the Counter lightly wou'd He leap.
“Drawn by the Martial Sound, and Warlike Sight;
“And ne'er return'd till Morn, at least till Night!
“Then would He gather from the idle Throng,
“Some for the Dance, and Others for the Song;
“Provide for Cards, or Bowls, to Drink, or Eat,
“Here, There, at such a Sign, in such a Street!
“But, for a Throw at Dice, from Tow'r to Strand,
“There was not 'Prentice with a readier Hand.
“Hence oft He pilfer'd, to support his Play,
“And, all He pilfer'd, squander'd Day by Day.
“This felt his Master to his Loss and Care,
“Who found full many a Time his Box full bare;
“For Lads that love a Glass, or throw a Main,
“That keep a Mistress, or a Horse maintain,
“Make from the Leaky Drill the Cash to flow,
“So sinks the Stock, and runs the Credit low.
“Like Feats, too oft, are ev'n by Masters play'd,
“And then They growl severe on failing Trade.
“But 'tis the Devil in Hell, (to speak sincere)
“To pay for Musick, which You never hear.
“Or fret, like Oswalde; I defer the Tale.
“Nay, to mine Host, who seems full well inclin'd,
“Will sketch a Story to his Hand and Mind.
“The Flow'r of Cooks, young Perkin, let Him take,
“Whose Christian Name was lost in That of Rake.
“And, tho' our Office scarce requires a Beau,
“This Lad was all for Vanity and Show!
“Chearful, He was, as Gold-finch in a Grove;
“Of Jollity, as full! As full, of Love!
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“And round and red his Lips, and soft as Down!
“Black was his Hair, thick furnishing his Head;
“And neatly drest, the Length his Shoulders spred!
“Well cou'd He tune his Voice, and turn his Feet;
“As Hive of Honey, He of Sport repleat!
“At ev'ry Marriage, First to lead the Hop;
“And more He lov'd the Tavern than the Shop.
“March'd but the City-bands along the Cheap,
“From off the Counter lightly wou'd He leap.
“Drawn by the Martial Sound, and Warlike Sight;
“And ne'er return'd till Morn, at least till Night!
“Then would He gather from the idle Throng,
“Some for the Dance, and Others for the Song;
“Provide for Cards, or Bowls, to Drink, or Eat,
“Here, There, at such a Sign, in such a Street!
“But, for a Throw at Dice, from Tow'r to Strand,
“There was not 'Prentice with a readier Hand.
“Hence oft He pilfer'd, to support his Play,
“And, all He pilfer'd, squander'd Day by Day.
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“Who found full many a Time his Box full bare;
“For Lads that love a Glass, or throw a Main,
“That keep a Mistress, or a Horse maintain,
“Make from the Leaky Drill the Cash to flow,
“So sinks the Stock, and runs the Credit low.
“Like Feats, too oft, are ev'n by Masters play'd,
“And then They growl severe on failing Trade.
“But 'tis the Devil in Hell, (to speak sincere)
“To pay for Musick, which You never hear.
“This Youth, for six long Years, his Master bore,
“And chided oft for Lavishing his Store;
“Late when He left, or early sought, his Bed;
“Yet still the same vile Course young Perkin led.
“Seiz'd has He been, by unrelenting Bum,
“The Master has redeem'd Him for the Sum;
“Seiz'd by the Watch, to Newgate has been sent;
“To bail Him, for the Broil, the Master went.
“Less tractable He grew for Usage Civil;
“Such Usage, as might half reform the Devil!
“And chided oft for Lavishing his Store;
“Late when He left, or early sought, his Bed;
“Yet still the same vile Course young Perkin led.
“Seiz'd has He been, by unrelenting Bum,
“The Master has redeem'd Him for the Sum;
“Seiz'd by the Watch, to Newgate has been sent;
“To bail Him, for the Broil, the Master went.
“Less tractable He grew for Usage Civil;
“Such Usage, as might half reform the Devil!
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“With this Obdurance, was his Patience tir'd;
“Who thus dismiss'd Him, e'er the Term expir'd.
“Industrious what I save, You wasteful spend;
“I took You as the Orphan of my Friend.
“To Me He show'd the same Paternal Care;
“Single I am, and meant You for my Heir.
“But mighty Young are You, yet mighty Wise,
“Nor must You be advis'd, yet will advise;
“But Better from the Heap the Tainted throw,
“Than keep, till all decay'd the Remnant grow.
“So may I live in Plenty, and in Peace,
“As here be thy Indenture and Release;
“Pass, with a Curse, lest You corrupt the Rest,
“And not one Single Servant stand the Test.
“All that I gave Thee, with Thee take away!
“And yet—reform to Good, and You may stay.
“Who thus dismiss'd Him, e'er the Term expir'd.
“Industrious what I save, You wasteful spend;
“I took You as the Orphan of my Friend.
“To Me He show'd the same Paternal Care;
“Single I am, and meant You for my Heir.
“But mighty Young are You, yet mighty Wise,
“Nor must You be advis'd, yet will advise;
“But Better from the Heap the Tainted throw,
“Than keep, till all decay'd the Remnant grow.
“So may I live in Plenty, and in Peace,
“As here be thy Indenture and Release;
“Pass, with a Curse, lest You corrupt the Rest,
“And not one Single Servant stand the Test.
“All that I gave Thee, with Thee take away!
“And yet—reform to Good, and You may stay.
“To Good not turn'd, He follows his Delight,
“And revels at his Will from Morn to Night;
“His little Substance to a Com'rade sends
“For Vice, like Virtue, is the Tye of Friends!
“One that had us'd the same ill Course of Life,
“With this Addition blest, an handsome Wife!
“Who kept a Shop, for Fear what Folks might say,
“But kept Herself a much genteeler Way!
“And revels at his Will from Morn to Night;
“His little Substance to a Com'rade sends
“For Vice, like Virtue, is the Tye of Friends!
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“With this Addition blest, an handsome Wife!
“Who kept a Shop, for Fear what Folks might say,
“But kept Herself a much genteeler Way!
“I leave it to mine Host, what Quarrel wrought
“Their high Dislike, and How, and Where they fought;
“Whence One to Prison was condemn'd for Strife,
“And One for Murder forfeited his Life.
“Let Him convey this Document to Youth,
“Your sole Delight, be Virtue and be Truth!
“For want of This, has many a Squire, well-bred,
“Been forc'd to list for Pay, or beg for Bread;
“Indue'd with This, for all his sordid Race,
“Has many a Wretch, low-born, rose First in Place.
“Their high Dislike, and How, and Where they fought;
“Whence One to Prison was condemn'd for Strife,
“And One for Murder forfeited his Life.
“Let Him convey this Document to Youth,
“Your sole Delight, be Virtue and be Truth!
“For want of This, has many a Squire, well-bred,
“Been forc'd to list for Pay, or beg for Bread;
“Indue'd with This, for all his sordid Race,
“Has many a Wretch, low-born, rose First in Place.
“Suffice it to have giv'n mine Host his Cue,
“And where the Game is left, let Him pursue;
“But first, with Me, to Woodland Wilds resort,
“Young Gamelyn there shall yield us nobler Sport”
Laughing, He paus'd—nor by our Host control'd,
His Tale, as You may hear, in Order told.
“And where the Game is left, let Him pursue;
“But first, with Me, to Woodland Wilds resort,
“Young Gamelyn there shall yield us nobler Sport”
Laughing, He paus'd—nor by our Host control'd,
His Tale, as You may hear, in Order told.
End of the Prologue.
| The Canterbury Tales of Chaucer | |