The Sompnour’s TaleThe Prologue
The Sompnour in his stirrups high he stood,Upon this Friar his hearte was so wood,That like an aspen leaf he quoke for ire:“Lordings,” quoth he, “but one thing I desire;I you beseech, that of your courtesy,Since ye have heard this false Friar lie,As suffer me I may my tale tellThis Friar boasteth that he knoweth hell,And, God it wot, that is but little wonder,Friars and fiends be but little asunder.For, pardie, ye have often time heard tell,How that a friar ravish’d was to hellIn spirit ones by a visioun,And, as an angel led him up and down,To shew him all the paines that there were,In all the place saw he not a frere;Of other folk he saw enough in woe.Unto the angel spake the friar tho;‘Now, Sir,’ quoth he, ‘have friars such a grace,That none of them shall come into this place?’‘Yes’ quoth the angel; ‘many a millioun:’And unto Satanas he led him down.‘And now hath Satanas,’ said he, ‘a tailBroader than of a carrack is the sail.Hold up thy tail, thou Satanas,’ quoth he,‘Shew forth thine erse, and let the friar seeWhere is the nest of friars in this place.’And less than half a furlong way of spaceRight so as bees swarmen out of a hive,Out of the devil’s erse there gan to driveA twenty thousand friars on a rout.And throughout hell they swarmed all about,And came again, as fast as they may gon,And in his erse they creeped every one:He clapt his tail again, and lay full still.This friar, when he looked had his fillUpon the torments of that sorry place,His spirit God restored of his graceInto his body again, and he awoke;But natheless for feare yet he quoke,So was the devil’s erse aye in his mind;That is his heritage, of very kindGod save you alle, save this cursed Frere;My prologue will I end in this mannere.