When that the Knight had thus his tale told In all the rout was neither young nor old, That he not said it was a noble story, And worthy to be *drawen to memory*; *recorded* And *namely the gentles* every one.
*especially the gentlefolk* Our Host then laugh’d and swore, 'So may I gon,* *prosper This goes aright; *unbuckled is the mail;* *the budget is opened* Let see now who shall tell another tale: For truely this game is well begun.
Now telleth ye, Sir Monk, if that ye conne*, *know Somewhat, to quiten* with the Knighte’s tale.
' *match The Miller that fordrunken was all pale, So that unnethes* upon his horse he sat, *with difficulty He would avalen* neither hood nor hat, *uncover Nor abide* no man for his courtesy, *give way to But in Pilate’s voice<1> he gan to cry, And swore by armes, and by blood, and bones, 'I can a noble tale for the nones* *occasion, With which I will now quite* the Knighte’s tale.
' *match Our Host saw well how drunk he was of ale, And said; 'Robin, abide, my leve* brother, *dear Some better man shall tell us first another: Abide, and let us worke thriftily.
' By Godde’s soul,' quoth he, 'that will not I, For I will speak, or elles go my way! ' Our Host answer’d; '*Tell on a devil way*; *devil take you! * Thou art a fool; thy wit is overcome.
' 'Now hearken,' quoth the Miller, 'all and some: But first I make a protestatioun.
That I am drunk, I know it by my soun’: And therefore if that I misspeak or say, *Wite it* the ale of Southwark, I you pray: *blame it on*<2> For I will tell a legend and a life Both of a carpenter and of his wife,