The Tale of Sir Thopas
Folio 167v
4 of 5 folios
¶ Do come he seide mynstralles
And gestoures for to tellen tales
Of Romances that ben Reales
Of popes and of Cardynales
¶ Thei fette him first swete wyn
140
And meed ek in a Maselyn
Of gyngerebred that was ful fyn
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¶ He dide next his wħite lere
Of cloth of lake fyn and clere
And next his shert an aketon
And ouer that an habergeon
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for percyng of his herte
¶ And ouer that a fyne hauberk
Was al Iwroght of Iewes werk
ful stronge it was of plate
And ouer that his cotearmour
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As white as is a lily flour
¶ His shelde was al of gold so rede
And ther ynne was a boores heede
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And there he swoor in ale and brede
How that the geant shuld be dede
¶ Hise Iambeux were of quyrboily
His swerdes shethe of yuory
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His helme of laton bright
His sadel was of Rowel bon
His bridel of the sonne shon
¶ His spere was of fyne Cipres
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That bodeth werre and no thing peece
the heed ful sharp I grond.
The stede was al dappled gray
It goth an amble in the way
¶ Lo lordes myn here is a fit
¶ Now holdeth your mouth par charite
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Both knyght and lady fre
And herkeneth to my spelle
¶ Of bataille and of Chiialrye
And of ladyes loue drurye
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Men speken of Romances of pris
¶ Of hornchild and ypotis
Of syr libeux and playndamour
But syr Topas he bereth the flour