The Monk's Prologue
Folio 188v
2 of 4 folios
And oute atte dore anon I mote me dighte
Or elles I am but lost but yif that I
Bee like a wilde leoun fool hardy
I woot wel she wol do me sle some day
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Some neighbore and thanne go my way
For I am perilous with knyf in honde
Al be it that I dar nat with hir stonde
For she is bigge in armes bi my feith
That shal he fynde that hir mysdooth or seith
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But lat vs passe awey fro this matere
Mi lord the monk quod he be mery of chere
For ye shul telle a tale trewly
Lo Rochestre stont here fast by
Ride forth myn owne lord breke not our game
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But bi my trouthe I know nat your name
Wher shal I calle yow my lord daun Ioħn
Or daun Thomas or elles daun albion
Of what hous be ye bi your fader kyn
I vow to god thow hast a ful fayr skyn
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It is a gentil pasture there thow gost
Thow art nat like a penant or a goost
Vpon my feith thow art some officere
Som worthi sexteyn or some Celerere
For bi my fader soule as to my dom
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Thow art a maystyr whan thou art at hom
No poure cloystrer ne no nouys
But a gouernour worthi and wis
And therwith al of brawnes and boones
A welfaryng persone for the nones
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I prey to god yeue him confusioun
That the first broght vnto Religioun
Thow woldest han ben a tredefoul aright
Haddestow as grete a leue as thow hast myght
To parfourmen al thi lust in engendrure
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Thow haddest bigeten ful many a creature
Allas whi werestow so side a cope
God yeue me sorowe but and I were a pope
Nat oonly thow but euery myghti man