391. a goune of falding, a gown (robe) of coarse cloth. The term falding signifies 'a kind of frieze or rough-napped cloth,' which was probably 'supplied from the North of Europe, and identical with the woollen wrappers of which Hermoldus speaks, "quos nos appellamus Faldones."'—Way. 'Falding was a coarse serge cloth, very rough and durable,' &c.; Essays on Chaucer, p. 438. In MS. O. 5. 4, in Trinity College, Cambridge, occurs the entry—'Amphibulus, vestis equi villosa, anglice a sclauayn or faldyng'; cited in Furnivall's Temporary Preface, p. 99. In 1392, I find a mention of 'unam tunicam de nigro faldyng lineatam'; Testamenta Eboracensia, i. 173. Hence its colour was sometimes black, and the Shipman's gown is so coloured in the drawing in the Ellesmere MS.; but see A. 3212. See the whole of Way's long note in the Prompt. Parvulorum.

392. laas, lace, cord. Seamen still carry their knives slung.

394. the hote somer. 'Perhaps this is a reference to the summer of the year 1351, which was long remembered as the dry and hot summer.'—Wright. There was another such summer in 1370, much nearer the date of this Prologue. But it may be a mere general expression.

395. a good felawe, a merry companion; as in l. 648.

396-8. 'Very many a draught of wine had he drawn (stolen away or carried off) from Bordeaux, cask and all, while the chapman (merchant or supercargo to whom the wine belonged) was asleep; for he paid no regard to any conscientious scruples.'

took keep; cf. F. prendre garde.

399. hyer hond, upper hand.

400. 'He sent them home to wherever they came from by water,' i. e. he made them 'walk the plank,' as it used to be called; or, in plain English, threw them overboard, to sink or swim. However cruel this may seem now, it was probably a common practice. 'This battle (the sea-fight off Sluys) was very murderous and horrible. Combats at sea are more destructive and obstinate than upon land'; Froissart's Chron. bk. i. c. 50. See Minot's Poems, ed. Hall, p. 16. In Wright's History of Caricature, p. 204, is an anecdote of the way in which the defeat of the French at Sluys was at last revealed to the king of France, Philippe VI., by the court-jester, who alone dared to communicate the news. 'Entering the King's chamber, he continued muttering to himself, but loud enough to be heard—"Those cowardly English! the chicken-hearted English!" "How so, cousin?" the king inquired. "Why," replied the fool, "because they have not courage enough to jump into the sea, like your French soldiers, who went over headlong from their ships, leaving them to the enemy, who had no inclination to follow them." Philippe thus became aware of the full extent of his calamity.' And see Essays on Chaucer, p. 460.

402. stremes, currents. him bisydes, ever near at hand.