His speré was of fin cypréss, That bodeth war, and nothing peace, The head full sharp yground. His stedé was all dapple gray, It goeth an amble in the way Full softély and round In londe-- Lo, Lordes mine, here is a fytte; If ye wol ony more of it, To tell it wol I fond. Now hold your mouth _pour charité_, Bothé knight and lady free, And herkeneth to my spell, Of bataille and of chivalrie, Of ladies love and druerie, Anon I wol you tell. Men speken of romauncés of pris, Of Hornchild, and of Ipotis, Of Bevis, and Sir Guy, Of Sir Libeux, and Pleindamour, But Sir Thopás, he bears the flour Of reál chivalrie. His goodé steed he all bestrode, And forth upon his way he glode, As sparkle out of brond; Upon his crest he bare a tower, And therein sticked a lily flower, God shield his corps fro shond. And for he was a knight auntrous, He n'olde slepen in none house, But liggen in his hood, His brighté helm was his wangér, And by him baited his destrér Of herbés fine and good. Himself drank water of the well, As did the knight Sir Percivell So worthy under weede, Till on a day ---- ---- "No more of this for Goddés dignitee," Quod ouré hosté, "for thou makest me So weary of thy veray lewédnesse, That all so wisly God my soulé blesse, Min erés aken of thy drafty speche. Now swiche a rime the devil I beteche; This may wel be rime dogérel," quod he. "Why so?" quod I, "why wolt thou letten me More of my talé than an other man, Sin that it is the besté rime I can?" "Thou dost nought ellés but dispendest time. Sir, at one word, thou shalt no longer rime." THE KNIGHT OF THE BURNING PESTLE. DRAMATIS PERSONÆ. THE PROLOGUE. _Then a Citizen._ _The Citizen's Wife, and_ RALPH, _her man, sitting below amidst the spectators._ _A rich Merchant._ JASPER, _his apprentice._ MASTER HUMPHREY, _a friend to the Merchant._ LUCE, _the Merchant's daughter._ MISTRESS MERRY-THOUGHT, JASPER'S _mother._ MICHAEL, _a second son of_ MISTRESS MERRY-THOUGHT. OLD MR. MERRY-THOUGHT. _A Squire._ _A Dwarf._ _A Tapster._ _A Boy that danceth and singeth._ _An Host._ _A Barber._ _Two Knights._ _A Captain._ _A Sergeant._ _Soldiers._ _Enter_ PROLOGUE. From all that's near the court, from all that's great Within the compass of the city walls, We now have brought our scene. _Enter_ CITIZEN. _Cit._ Hold your peace, good-man boy. _Pro._ What do you mean, sir? _Cit._ That you have no good meaning: these seven years there hath been plays at this house, I have observed it, you have still girds at citizens; and now you call your play "The London Merchant." Down with your title, boy, down with your title. _Pro._ Are you a member of the noble city?