The Franklin's Tale
Folio 154r
2 of 24 folios
I sleepe neuere / in the Mount of Parnaso
Ne lerned / Marcus Tullius Scithero
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Colours ne knowe I none / with outen drede
But swiche colours / as growen in the mede
Or ellis swiche / as men dye / or peynte
Colours of Rethoryk they ben to queynte
My Spirit feeleth nat of swich matere
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But if yow list my tale shul ye heere
IN Armorik that called is Britayne
Ther was a knyght þt louede & dide his payne
To serue a lady / in his beste wise
And many a labour / many a gret emprise
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He for his lady wroghte / er she were wonne
For she was / oon the faireste vnder Sonne
And eek ther to / come of so heigh kynrede
That wel vnnethes / dorste this knyght for drede
Telle hir his wo / his peyne / and his distresse
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But atte laste / she for his worthynesse
And namely / for his meke obeysance
Hath swich a pitee caught of his penance
That piuely / she fel of his acord
To taken hym / for hir housbonde & hir lord
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Of swich lordshipe / as men han ouer hir wyues
And for to lede / the moore in blisse hir lyues
Of his fre wyl / he swoor hir as a knyght
That neuere in al his lyf he day ne nyght
Ne sholde vp on hym take / no maistrye
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Agayn hir wyl / ne kithe hir Ialousye
But hir obeye / and folwe hir wyl in al
As any louere / to his lady shal
Saue / þt the name of soueraynetee
That wolde he haue / for shame of his degree
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¶ She thonked hym / and wt ful gret hūblesse
She seyde sire / sith of youre gentilesse
Ye profre me / to haue so large a reyne
Ne wolde neuere god / bitwix vs tweyne
As in my gilt / were outher werre / or stryf
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Sire I wol be / your hūble trewe wyf
Haue heer my trouthe / til that myn herte breste
Thus been they bothe / in quiete and in reste