The Merchant's Tale
Folio 147v
30 of 32 folios
For I am blynd . ȝe sire no fors quod sche
But wolde ȝe vouche sauf for goddes sake
The piry inwith ȝour armes forto take
For wel I woot þat ȝe mys truste me
1100
Than schold I clymbe wel ynough quod sche
So I my foot might set vpon ȝour bak
Certes quod he þer on schal be no lak
Migħt I ȝow helpe wiþ myn herte blood
He stoupith doun and on his bak sche stood
1105
And caught hir by a twist and vp sche goth
Ladys I pray ȝow þat ȝe be not wroþ
I can not glose I am a rude man
And sodeinly anoon þis damyan
Gan pullen vp þe smok and in he throng
1110
And whan þat pluto saugh þis grete wrong
To Ianuary he ȝaf his sight agayn
Ne was þer neuer man of þing so fayn
1115
But on his wif his þought was euermo
Vpto þe tree he kest his eyȝen tuo
And seigh þat damyan his wyf had dressid
In which maner it may not ben expressid
But if I wolde speke vncurteisly
1120
And vp he ȝaf a roryng and a cry
As doth þe moder whan þe child schal dye
Out . help . allas . harrow . he gan to crie
O stronge lady stoure what dos þow
And sche answerith sire what eylith ȝow
1125
Haue paciens and resoū in ȝour mynde
I haue ȝow holpen on boþe ȝour eyen blynde
Vp peril of my soule I schal not lyen
As me was taught to hele with ȝour yen
Was noþing bet . for to make ȝow see
1130
Than stroggle wiþ a man vpon a tree
God woot I dede it in ful good entent
Stroggle quod he ; ȝe algat in it went
God ȝiue ȝow boþe on schames deth to dyen
He swyued þe . I saugh it wiþ myn yen
1135
And elles be I honged by þe hals