The Reeve's Tale
Folio 57v
8 of 13 folios
But doþ his note and wiþ hise clerkes pleyde
Til þat here corn was faire and wel y grounde
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And whan þe mele is sakked and y bounde
This Ioħn goþ out and fynt his hors away
And gan to crye harrow and weylaway
Oure hors is lost Alayn for goddes banes
Steppe on þi feet com of man al at anes
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Allas oure wardein has his palfray lorn
This aleyn al forgat boþe mele and corn
Al was out of his mynde his housbondrye
What whilk wey is he gon he gan to crye
The wyf cam leepyng inward at a ren
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Sche seyde allas ȝour hors goth in þe fen
With wilde mares as faste as he may goo
Vnthank come on his hand þat bond him so
And he þat bettre scholde haue knyt þe reyne
Allas qd Iohñ Alayn for cristes peyne
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Lay doun þi swerd and I wol myn alswa
I is ful swift god wat as is a Ra
By goddes harte he sal nouȝt scape vs baþe
Why ne had þou put þe caple in þe lathe
Ilhaille by godde alayn þou is a fonne
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Thise sely clerkes han fulfaste y ronne
Toward þe fen boþe alayn and eek Ioħn
And whan þe Meller seigh þat þei were gon
He half a buisschel of here corn haþ take
And bad his wijf go knede it in a cake
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And seide I trowe þe clerkes weren aferd
Yet kan a mellere make a clerkes berd
For aƚƚ his art yet lat hem gon here weye
Lo where he goþ ye lat þe children pleye
They gete him nougħt so ligħtly by my croun
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Thise seely clerkes rennen vp and doun
With keep . keep . stand . stand . iossa . warderere
Ga whistel þou and I schal keepe him heere
But schortly til it was verray night