The Tale of Sir Thopas Folio 159r 1 of 3 folios
But he was chast and no lechour
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And swete as is the brambel flour
That beretħ the red hepe
And so it fel vp on a day
For sothe as I ȝow telle may
Sire Thopas wold out ride
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He wortħ vp on his steede gray
A long
He pryketħ thurgħ a fair forest
Ther Inne is many a wylde best
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Ȝa bothe Buk and hare
I telle it ȝow hī had almest
Bitidde a sory kare
There spi ngen erbes grete & smale
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The lycoris and the cetewale
And many a clowe gylophre
And Notemuge to putte in ale
Wheither it be moyst or stale
Or for to leyn in coffre
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The briddes songen it is no nay
The Spar hauk and the Popyngay
That ioye it was to heere
The thrustelcok mad eke hire lay
The wode dowe vp on a spray
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She sang& clere
Sire Thopas fel in loue longyng
Al whan he herd / the thrustel syng
His fair steede in his prekyng
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So swatte / þ t mē mygħ t hī wryng
His sides were al blod
Sire Thopas eke so wery was
For prikyng
So fiers was his corage
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That doun he leid hī in that place
To make his steede som solace
And ȝaf hī good forage
O Seynte Mary benedicite
What eyletħ this loue at me
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To bynde me so sore
Me dremed al this nygħ t per de
An Elf Quene shal my lē man be
And slepe vnder my gore
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For in this world no wō man is
Worthy to be my make //
In towne
Alle othere wō men I forsake
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By dale and eke by downe
In to his sadel he clom a noon
An Elf Quene for to espie
Til he so longe hatħ ryde & gon
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That he fond in a pryue won
The contreye of fairie
So wylde
For in that contrey was þ er e noon
That to hī durst ride or gon
Neither wyf ne childe
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Til that þ er e com a gret geaunt
His name was Sire Olifaunt
A per ilous man of dede
He seide child by Termagaunt