TALE S.

An Anfwer to the Sompner's Prologue of Chaucer.

In imitation of Chaucer's ftyle.

HE Sompner leudly hath his Prologue told,

TH

And faine on the Freers his tale japing and

bold;

How that in Hell they fearchen near and wide,
And ne one Freer in all thilke place espyde,
But lo! the devil turn'd his erfe about,
And twenty thousand Freers wend in and out?
By which in feoffry's rhyming it appears,

The devil's belly is the hive of Freers.

Now liftneth lordings! forthwith ye shall hear,
What happend at a house in Lancashire.
A mifere that had londs and tenement,
Who raketh from his villaines taxes and rent,
Owned a houfe which emptye long y-ftood,
Full deeply fited in a derkning wood,
Murmring a fhallow brook runneth along,
Mong the round ftones it maken doleful fong.

Now there fpreaden a rumour that everich night
The rooms ihaunted been by many a sprité,
The miller avoucheth, and all there about,
That they full oft' hearen the hellish rout';

C 5

Some

Some faine they hear the jingling of chains,
And fome hath yheard the pfautries ftraines,
At midnight fome the headless horfe imeet,
And fome efpien a corpfe in a white sheet,
And oother things,,faye, elfin and elfe,
And fhapes that fear createn to itselfe.

Now it fo hapt, there was not ferre away,
Of grey Freers a fair and rich Abbaye,
Where liven a Freer ycleped Pere Thomas,

Who daren alone in derke through church-yerds pafs This Freer would lye in thilike house all night, In hope he might efpyen a dreadful sprite. He taketh candle, beades, and holy watere, And legends eke of Saintes, and bookes of prayere. He entereth the room, and looketh round about, And hafpen the door to hafpen the goblin out. The candle hath he put close by the bed, And in low tone his ave marye faid. With water now befprinkled hath the floore, 1 And maken crofs on key-hole of the doore. Ne was there not a mouse-hole in thilke place, But he y croffed hath by God his grace: He croffed hath this, and eke he crossed that, With benedicite and God knows what.

Now he goeth to bed and lieth adown,.
When the clock had juft ftricken the twelfth foun.
Bethinketh him now what the cause had ibeen,
Why many fprites by mortals have been feen.
Hem remembreth how Dan Plutarch hath y-sed
That Cafar's fprite came to Brute his bed;
Of chains that frighten erft Artemidore,
The tales of Pline, Valere, and many more...
Hem thinketh that fome murdere here been done,
And he mought fee fome bloodye ghost anone,

Or