The Summoner's Tale
Folio 110r
4 of 17 folios
95
And hir embracith in his armes narwe
And kist hir swete and chirkith as a sparwe ;
With his lippes dame quod he right wel .
As he þat is ȝour seruaūt euerydel
Thankyd be god þat ȝow ȝaf soule and lif
100
Ȝit saugh I not þis day so fair a wyf
In al þe chirche god so saue me .
Ȝe god amend defautes sir quod sche /
Algates welcome be ȝe by my fay
Graunt mercy dame þis haue I found alway
105
But of ȝour grete goodnes by ȝoure leue
I wolde pray ȝow þat ȝe ȝow not greeue
I wil wiþ Thoams speke a litel þrowe
These curates ben ful negligent and slowe /
To grope tendurly a conscience
110
In schrift and preching is my diligence
Study in petres wordes and in poules
And walk and fissche cristen mennes soules
To ȝelde Iħu crist his propre rent
To spreden his word is al myn entent
115
Now by ȝour leue o deere sire quod sche
Chyd him right wel for seinte trinite
He is as angry as a pissemyre
Though þat he haue al þat he can desire
Though I him wrye on nigħt and make him warm
120
And ouer him lay my leg oþer myn arm
He groneth lik our boor þat lith in sty
Othir disport of him right noon haue I
I may please him in no maner caas
O Thomas Ieo voë dy Thomas Thomas .
125
This makþ þe feend . þis moste ben amendid
Ire is a þing þat highe god defendid
And þer of wold I speke a word or tuo
Now maister quod þe wyf er þat I go
What wil ȝe dyne . I wil go þer aboute
130
Now dame quod he now Ieo voë dy saunz doute
Haue I not of a capoun but þe lyuere
And of ȝour softe brede but a schiuere