The Nun's Priest's Tale
Folio 100r
2 of 16 folios
For whan degrees .xv. / were ascended
Thanne krew he / þt it myghte nat ben amended
His komb / was redder than the fyn coral
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And batayled / as it were a Castel wal
His byle was blak and as the Ieet it shoon
Lyk asure / were hise legges and his toon
Hise nayles whitter / than the lylye flour
And lyk the burned gold / was his colour
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This gentil cok / hadde in his gouernaūce
Seuene hennes / for to doon Al his plesaūce
Whiche were hise sustres / and his paramours
And wonder lyke to hym / as of colours
Of whiche / the faireste hewed on hire throte
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Was clepid / faire damoysele Pertelote
Curteys she was / discret and debonaire
And compaignable / and bar hir self so faire
Syn thilke day / þt she was seuen nyght oold
That trewely / she hath the herte in hoold
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Of Chaūtecler loken in euery lyth
He loued hir so / þt wel was hym ther with
But swich a ioye was it to here hem synge
Whan þt / the brighte sonne gan to sprynge
In swete acord / my leef is faren in londe
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For thilke tyme / as I haue vnderstonde
Beestes and briddes / kouden speke and synge
And so bifel / þt in a dawenynge
As Chaūtecler among hise wyues alle
Sat on his perche / that was in the halle
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And next hym sat this faire Pertelote
This Chaūtecler gan gronen in his throte
As man þt in his dreem / is drecched soore
¶ And whan þt Pertelote / thus herde hym rore
She was agast / and seyde herte deere
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What eyleth yow / to grone in this manere
Ye ben a verray sleper / fy for shame
¶ And he answerde / and seyde thus / madame
I prey yow / þt ye take it nat agrief
By god me mette / I was in swich meschief
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Right now / þt yet myn herte is soore afright
Now god quod he / my sweuene recche aright