Now welcome Summer with thy sunne… That hast this winter’s weathers o… And driven away the longe nighties… Saint Valentine, that art full hi… Thus singen smalle fowles for thy…

‘No more of this, for Godde’s dig… Quoth oure Hoste; 'for thou makes… So weary of thy very lewedness,*… That, all so wisly* God my soule… Mine eares ache for thy drafty* sp…

Compleyne ne koude, ne might myn h… My peynes halve, ne what torment… Though that I sholde in your pres… Myn hertes lady, as wisly he me sa… That Bountee made, and Beautee li…

Alone walking In thought plaining, And sore sighing; All desolate, Me rememb’ring

They had a cook with them who stood alone For boiling chicken with a marrow-bone, Sharp flavouring powder and a spice for savour. He could distinguish London ale by flavour, And he coul...

WHEN said was this miracle, ever… As sober* was, that wonder was to… Till that our Host to japen* he b… And then *at erst* he looked upon… And saide thus; ‘What man art tho…

When priestes failen in their saws… And lordes turne Godde’s laws Against the right; And lechery is holden as privy sol… And robbery as free purchase,

With timorous heart, and trembling… Of cunning* naked, bare of eloquen… Unto the *flow’r of port in womanh… I write, as he that none intellige… Of metres hath, nor flowers of se…

This wrecched worldes transmutacio… As wele or wo, now povre and now h… Withouten ordre or wys discrecioun Governed is by Fortunes errour. But natheles, the lak of hir favou…

‘IN faith, Squier, thou hast thee… And gentilly; I praise well thy w… Quoth the Franklin; 'considering… So feelingly thou speak’st, Sir,… *As to my doom,* there is none tha…

Madame, for youre newefangelnesse, Many a servant have ye put out of… I take my leve of your unstedefast… For wel I woot, whil ye have live… Ye can not love ful half yeer in a…

This worthy limitour, this noble… He made always a manner louring ch… Upon the Sompnour; but for honest… No villain word as yet to him spak… But at the last he said unto the…

To yow, my purse, and to noon othe… Complayne I, for ye be my lady de… I am so sory, now that ye been lyg… For certes, but ye make me hevy ch… Me were as leef be layd upon my be…

THE PROLOGUE. WHEN ended was the life of Sain… Ere we had ridden fully five mile, At Boughton-under-Blee us gan o’e… A man, that clothed was in clothes…

PROLOGUE Here bygynneth the Book of the ta… Whan that Aprille, with hise shou… The droghte of March hath perced… And bathed every veyne in swich li…