The Monk's Tale
Folio 237v
20 of 23 folios
Now maystow wepe with þin eyen blynde
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Seþenes þou art fro wele faƚƚ in to wrecchidnesse
¶ The ende of þis Caytiffe was as I schal seye
His foomen made a feste vp on a day
And made him as here fool biforn hem pleye
And þis was a temple of gret aray
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But at þe laste he made a foul affray
For he tuo postes schook and made hem falle /
And doun fel temple and al þer it lay
And slougħ himself and eek his foomen aƚƚ
¶ This is to say þe princes euerichon
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And eek a þousand bodyes were þey slayn
Wiþ fallyng of þe grete temple of stoon
Of Sampsou ne wol I no more sayn
Beþ war of þis ensample olde and playn
That noman telle here counseil to here wyues
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Of such þing as þay wolde haue secre fayn
If þat it touche here lymes or here lyues
¶ Of Ercule þe soueraign conquerour
Syngen his werkes lewede and heih renou~
For in his tyme of strengþe he bar þe flour
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He slougħ and rafte þe skyn fro þe leoū
He of sent arwes leyde þe boost a doun
He arpyes slougħ þe cruel briddes felle
He golden apples rafte þe dragoun
He drougħ out Serberois þe hound of heƚƚ
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¶ He slougħ þe cruel tyraunt Buserus
And made his hors to frete him fleissħ and boon
He slougħ þe verray serpent venymous
Of Achilles tuo hornes brark he oon
And he slougħ Cacus in a Cave of ston
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He slougħ þe geaunt Anteus þe stronge /
He slougħ þe grisly boor and þat anoon
And bar þe heed vpon his necke longe
¶ Was neuer wigħt siþen þe world bygan
Þat slougħ so many monstres as dede he /