"IN faith, Squier, thou hast thee well acquit, And gentilly; I praise well thy wit," Quoth the Franklin; "considering thy youthe So feelingly thou speak'st, Sir, I aloue* thee, *allow, approve *As to my doom,* there is none that is here *so far as my judgment Of eloquence that shall be thy peer, goes* If that thou live; God give thee goode chance, And in virtue send thee continuance, For of thy speaking I have great dainty.* *value, esteem I have a son, and, by the Trinity; *It were me lever* than twenty pound worth land, *I would rather* Though it right now were fallen in my hand, He were a man of such discretion As that ye be: fy on possession, *But if* a man be virtuous withal. *unless I have my sone snibbed* and yet shall, *rebuked; "snubbed." For he to virtue *listeth not t'intend,* *does not wish to But for to play at dice, and to dispend, apply himself* And lose all that he hath, is his usage; And he had lever talke with a page, Than to commune with any gentle wight, There he might learen gentilless aright." Straw for your gentillesse!" quoth our Host. "What? Frankelin, pardie, Sir, well thou wost* *knowest That each of you must tellen at the least A tale or two, or breake his behest."* *promise "That know I well, Sir," quoth the Frankelin; "I pray you have me not in disdain, Though I to this man speak a word or two." "Tell on thy tale, withoute wordes mo'." "Gladly, Sir Host," quoth he, "I will obey Unto your will; now hearken what I say; I will you not contrary* in no wise, *disobey As far as that my wittes may suffice. I pray to God that it may please you, Then wot I well that it is good enow. "These olde gentle Bretons, in their days, Of divers aventures made lays,<2> Rhymeden in their firste Breton tongue; Which layes with their instruments they sung, Or elles reade them for their pleasance; And one of them have I in remembrance, Which I shall say with good will as I can. But, Sirs, because I am a borel* man, *rude, unlearned At my beginning first I you beseech Have me excused of my rude speech. I learned never rhetoric, certain; Thing that I speak, it must be bare and plain. I slept never on the mount of Parnasso, Nor learned Marcus Tullius Cicero. Coloures know I none, withoute dread,* *doubt But such colours as growen in the mead, Or elles such as men dye with or paint; Colours of rhetoric be to me quaint;* *strange My spirit feeleth not of such mattere. But, if you list, my tale shall ye hear." Notes to the Prologue to the Franklin's Tale 1. In the older editions, the verses here given as the prologue were prefixed to the Merchant's Tale, and put into his mouth. Tyrwhitt was abundantly justified, by the internal evidence afforded by the lines themselves, in transferring them to their present place. 2. The "Breton Lays" were an important and curious element in the literature of the Middle Ages; they were originally composed in the Armorican language, and the chief collection of them extant was translated into French verse by a poetess calling herself "Marie," about the middle of the thirteenth century. But though this collection was the most famous, and had doubtless been read by Chaucer, there were other British or Breton lays, and from one of those the Franklin's Tale is taken. Boccaccio has dealt with the same story in the "Decameron" and the "Philocopo," altering the circumstances to suit the removal of its scene to a southern clime.