The Monk's Tale
Folio 179v
12 of 18 folios
And falsly vn to his foomen / she hī solde
And slepynge in hire barm / vp oon a day
She made to clippe or shere / his heere a way
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And made hise foomen / al this craft espien
And whan þt they hī fond / in this array
They bounde hī fast / & putten out hise eyen
¶ But or his her was clipped / or I shaue
There was no bond / wt whicħ mē mygħt hī bynde
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But now is he in prisoū / in a caue
Where as they made hī / atte querne grynde
O noble Sampsoū / strengest of mankynde
O whilom Iuge in glorie / and in richesse
Now maistow wepen / wt thyne eyen blynde
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Sithe þu fro wele / art falle in wrecchednesse
¶ The ende of this caityf / was as I shal seye
His foomen maden a feste / vp on a day
And maden hī as here fool / bifore hē pleye
And this was in a temple / of gret array
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But atte laste / he made a foul affray
For he two pilers shoke / & made hē falle
And doun fel temple & al / and there it lay
And slow hī self / & eke his foomen alle
¶ This is to seyn / the Pinces euerychon
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And eke thre thousand bodies / were there slayn
W fallyng of the gret temple / of ston
Of Sampson / now wol I no more sayn
Betħ war by this ensample / old and playn
That nomannomennomaen telle here coūseil / to here wyues
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Of swicħ thyng / as they wolde han secree fayn
If þt it touche / here lymes / or here lyues
¶ Of hercules / the Souereigne conquerour
Syngyn hise werkes laude / & heigħ renoū
For in his tyme / of strengthe he was the flour
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He slow & raft the skyn / fro the leoū
He of Centaures / leide the boost a douñ
He Arpies slow / the cruel briddes felle
He goldene Apples reft / of the dragoun
He drow out Cerberus the hound / of helle
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¶ He slow the cruel tyraunt / Busirus
And mad his hors / to frete hī flessħ & bon
He slow the firy serpent / venimë
Of Achilois hornes two / he brak oon
And he slow Cakus / in a kaue of ston
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He slow the Geaūt / Anthoë the stronge
He slow the grisly Boor / and that a noon