Still listen, gentles, to my tale,
Merrier than the nightingale;—
For now I must relate,
How that Sir Thopas rideth o’er
Hill and dale and bright sea-shore,
E’en to his own estate.
21.
His merry men commandeth he
To make for him the game and glee;
For needs he must soon fight
With a giant fierce, with strong heads three,
For paramour and jollity,
And chivalry so bright.
22.
“Come forth,” said he, “my minstrels fair,
And tell me tales right debonair,
While I am clad and armed;
Romances, full of real tales,
Of dames, and popes, and cardinals,
And maids by wizards charmed.”
23.
They bore to him the sweetest wine
In silver cup; the muscadine,
With spices rare of Ind;
Fine gingerbread, in many a slice,
With cummin seed, and liquorice,
And sugar thrice refined.
24.
Then next to his white skin he ware
A cloth of fleecy wool, as fair,
Woven into a shirt;
Next that he put a cassock on,
And over that an habergeon, [35]
To guard right well his heart.
25.