The Canterbury Tales of Chaucer modernis'd by several hands. Publsh'd by Mr. Oggle |
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| II. |
 | III. |
PROLOGUE TO THE CLERK of Oxford's TALE. |
 | The Canterbury Tales of Chaucer |  |
143
PROLOGUE TO THE CLERK of Oxford's TALE.
By Mr. OGLE.
Meantime our Host, the studious Youth survey'd:
“You ride as coy and still as any Maid,
“That sits, new married, at the Bridal Board:
“What! one whole Day, and not one single Word?
“With some hard Sophistry, I doubt, You strain,
“And a new World of Logic fills your Brain.
“But Solomon, in Prose if not in Rhime,
“Declares, that All things have their Place and Time.
“Sir Clerk of Oxford, brighten up your Face;
“To study here, is out of Time and Place.
“Who joins in Sport, (no Matter what his Coat,
“Or Character of Note, or not of Note,)
“Shou'd use his Freedom, or relax his Pride,
“And by the Compact, He subscribes, abide.
“Then add your Share of Pleasantry and Joke,
“And, as becomes a Subject, bear the Yoke.
“But preach not You, like starving Fryar in Lent,
“Numb'ring our Sins, and Damn, tho' We repent;
“Transgressions, with Omissions, old and new:
“Then sowse in Hell, without a Heav'n in View!
“Nor yet perplex your Text; this Counsel keep
“In Mind: For if You nod, We well may sleep!
“Tell Us a Tale, but not of Priests or Popes!
“And spare your Figures, and forbear your Tropes!
“Keep these in Store, to Kings till You indite!
“Then, flourish ev'ry Sentence that You write!
“Then, stretch your Fancy! Then exalt your Stile!
“Here all We ask, is but a Laugh or Smile!
“But hold! I bar all Latin, and all Greek!
“Speak plain, that We may know what 'tis You Speak!”
“You ride as coy and still as any Maid,
“That sits, new married, at the Bridal Board:
“What! one whole Day, and not one single Word?
“With some hard Sophistry, I doubt, You strain,
“And a new World of Logic fills your Brain.
“But Solomon, in Prose if not in Rhime,
“Declares, that All things have their Place and Time.
“Sir Clerk of Oxford, brighten up your Face;
“To study here, is out of Time and Place.
“Who joins in Sport, (no Matter what his Coat,
“Or Character of Note, or not of Note,)
144
“And by the Compact, He subscribes, abide.
“Then add your Share of Pleasantry and Joke,
“And, as becomes a Subject, bear the Yoke.
“But preach not You, like starving Fryar in Lent,
“Numb'ring our Sins, and Damn, tho' We repent;
“Transgressions, with Omissions, old and new:
“Then sowse in Hell, without a Heav'n in View!
“Nor yet perplex your Text; this Counsel keep
“In Mind: For if You nod, We well may sleep!
“Tell Us a Tale, but not of Priests or Popes!
“And spare your Figures, and forbear your Tropes!
“Keep these in Store, to Kings till You indite!
“Then, flourish ev'ry Sentence that You write!
“Then, stretch your Fancy! Then exalt your Stile!
“Here all We ask, is but a Laugh or Smile!
“But hold! I bar all Latin, and all Greek!
“Speak plain, that We may know what 'tis You Speak!”
Mine Host, The worthy Scholar mild reply'd;
As free from Bookish Spleen, as Priestly Pride.
“I bow beneath the Rod; Allegiance pay;
“And, far as Innocence permits, obey.
“I but demand free Liberty of Voice;
“Light is the Tribute, that is given by Choice.
“A Tale I bring, but not from Streets or Stews,
“At Padua learnt, and of no Vulgar Muse.
“'Tis what Petrarch in Friendly Converse taught,
“Petrarch! Who purely wrote, and nobly thought;
“Whose Works and Manners, delicate as sage,
“Charm'd ev'ry Sex and State, from Youth to Age.
“This, shall his Works, to future Times, attest!
“His Manners are no more—with Him They rest!
“Illustrious Bard, with laurel'd Honours crown'd!
“And, were it Just thy boundless Praise to bound,
“Thou, Sun of Italy! Whose piercing Light
“Dispell'd the Shade! Forebade it to be Night!
“Oh! that on Me thy Rays had longer shone!
“Too soon Departed! And too lately Known!
“Now deep intomb'd the glorious Poet lies;
“To Death a Prey! A Lesson to the Wise!
As free from Bookish Spleen, as Priestly Pride.
145
“And, far as Innocence permits, obey.
“I but demand free Liberty of Voice;
“Light is the Tribute, that is given by Choice.
“A Tale I bring, but not from Streets or Stews,
“At Padua learnt, and of no Vulgar Muse.
“'Tis what Petrarch in Friendly Converse taught,
“Petrarch! Who purely wrote, and nobly thought;
“Whose Works and Manners, delicate as sage,
“Charm'd ev'ry Sex and State, from Youth to Age.
“This, shall his Works, to future Times, attest!
“His Manners are no more—with Him They rest!
“Illustrious Bard, with laurel'd Honours crown'd!
“And, were it Just thy boundless Praise to bound,
“Thou, Sun of Italy! Whose piercing Light
“Dispell'd the Shade! Forebade it to be Night!
“Oh! that on Me thy Rays had longer shone!
“Too soon Departed! And too lately Known!
“Now deep intomb'd the glorious Poet lies;
“To Death a Prey! A Lesson to the Wise!
146
“Far as a Friend might yet correct a Friend—
“(Justly to Blame, is Justly to Commend!)
“High tho' I prize the Work, and lov'd the Man;
“His Proem seems too copious for his Plan.
“Ill wou'd the lengthen'd Prologue suit your Taste;
“You'd think it disproportion'd, and misplac'd.
“And much I err, indur'd You the Delay;
“Tir'd with the Prelude, You'd demand the Play,
“Piemont He sketches, with a Master Hand!
“Saluzzo paints; and Eden is the Land!
“Extends the Appenines; with These You rise!
“Then Vesulus erects; You touch the Skies!
“Here from a narrow Spring, the Streams of Po
“Take Birth, and gather Vigor as They flow!
“You hear Them downward drive, an Eastern Course,
“Grown to a Torrent from a scanty Source!
“Fast to Emell their Progress You pursue;
“A while You keep Ferrarian Towr's in View;
“Thence, chace thro' flow'ry Meads the Watry Train:
“Till Venice sees their Passage to the Main.
“This is the Sum; and This I dare to say:
“None ever err'd so sweetly from his Way.
“Yet tho' He leads Us thro' inchanted Ground,
“'Tis still a needless Journey; Round and Round.
“The Goal in View, 'tis worse than Death to stay;
“We stray, yes, tho' thro' Paradise We stray.
“Such noble Errors of exalted Wit,
“I dare not copy, tho' He dare commit.
“We know our Force, know where our Strength may fail,
“And pass the Preface, to commence the Tale.”
“(Justly to Blame, is Justly to Commend!)
“High tho' I prize the Work, and lov'd the Man;
“His Proem seems too copious for his Plan.
“Ill wou'd the lengthen'd Prologue suit your Taste;
“You'd think it disproportion'd, and misplac'd.
“And much I err, indur'd You the Delay;
“Tir'd with the Prelude, You'd demand the Play,
“Piemont He sketches, with a Master Hand!
“Saluzzo paints; and Eden is the Land!
“Extends the Appenines; with These You rise!
“Then Vesulus erects; You touch the Skies!
“Here from a narrow Spring, the Streams of Po
“Take Birth, and gather Vigor as They flow!
“You hear Them downward drive, an Eastern Course,
“Grown to a Torrent from a scanty Source!
“Fast to Emell their Progress You pursue;
“A while You keep Ferrarian Towr's in View;
“Thence, chace thro' flow'ry Meads the Watry Train:
“Till Venice sees their Passage to the Main.
147
“None ever err'd so sweetly from his Way.
“Yet tho' He leads Us thro' inchanted Ground,
“'Tis still a needless Journey; Round and Round.
“The Goal in View, 'tis worse than Death to stay;
“We stray, yes, tho' thro' Paradise We stray.
“Such noble Errors of exalted Wit,
“I dare not copy, tho' He dare commit.
“We know our Force, know where our Strength may fail,
“And pass the Preface, to commence the Tale.”
End of the Prologue.
| The Canterbury Tales of Chaucer | |