The Nun's Priest's Tale
Folio 365r
1 of 14 folios
His color was reddere thā the fyne coral
40
And batayled as it were a castel wal
His byl was blak / and as the Ieet it schoon
Like asure weere hise leggis & hise toon
Hise naylis whittere / thā the lylye flour
And lik the burnede gold was his colour
45
This gentil kok hadde in his gouernaūce
Seuene hennys for to doon al his plesaūce
Whiche weere hise susterys & hise paramouris
And wondyr lyk to hȳ of colourys
Of whiche the fayreste hewyd on hire throte
50
Was clepid fayre dameselle Pertelote
Curteys sche was / discreet & debonayre
And cōpaynable & bar hire self so fayre
Syn thilke day that sche was seue ȝeer old
That trewely sche hath the herte in hold
55
Of Chaūtecleer lokyn in euery lith
He louede hȳ so that weel was hȳ therwith
But swich a Ioye it was to heere hē sȳge
Whan that the bryghte sune be gan to sprȳge
With sweete a cord myn lef is faryn on londe
60
For thilke tyme as I haue vndyrstonde
Bestis & bryddis coude speke & synge
And so be fel that in a dawenȳge
As Chaūtecleer a mong hise wyuys alle
Sat on his perche that was in an halle
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And next hȳ sat Dame Pertelote
This Chaūtecleer gan gronȳ in his throte
As man that in his dreem is drechid sore
And whan that pertelote thus herde hȳ roore
Sche was a gast & seyde herte deere
70
What eylyth ȝow to groone in this maneere
Ȝe been a verray slepere fy for schame
And he answerde thus / & seide Madame
I preye ȝow that ȝe take it nat at gref
By god me mette I was in swich myschef
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Rygh now that ȝit myn herte is soore afrit
Now god quod he myn sweuene reche a rygh