#EnglishWriters
In days of old there lived, of mig… A valiant Prince, and Theseus was… A chief, who more in feats of arms… The rising nor the setting sun beh… Of Athens he was lord; much land…
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…
The minister and norice* unto vice… Which that men call in English id… The porter at the gate is of delic… T’eschew, and by her contrar’ her… That is to say, by lawful business…
THE Cook of London, while the R… For joy he laugh’d and clapp’d him… ‘Aha!’ quoth he, 'for Christes pa… This Miller had a sharp conclusio… Upon this argument of herbergage.*…
Here begynyth the Parlement of Fo… THE PROEM The lyf so short, the craft so lon… Thassay so hard, so sharp the conq… The dredful Ioy, that alwey slit…
Alone walking In thought plaining, And sore sighing; All desolate, Me rememb’ring
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…
Prohemium. But al to litel, weylaway the whyl… Lasteth swich Ioye, y-thonked be… That semeth trewest, whan she wol… And can to foles so hir song entun…
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 ended was my tale of Melibe… And of Prudence and her benignity… Our Hoste said, 'As I am faithfu… And by the precious corpus Madria… I had lever* than a barrel of ale,…
With this he took his leve, and ho… And lord, so he was glad and wel b… Criseyde aroos, no lenger she ne s… But streght in-to hire closet went… And set hire doun as stylle as any…
My Master Bukton, when of Christ… Was asked, What is truth or sooth… He not a word answer’d to that ask… As who saith, no man is all true,… And therefore, though I highte to…
THE PROLOGUE. By that the Manciple his tale had… The sunne from the south line was… So lowe, that it was not to my sig… Degrees nine-and-twenty as in heig…
Thou ferse god of armes, Mars the… That in the frosty contre called… Within thy grisly temple ful of dr… Honoured art as patroun of that pl… With thy Bellona, Pallas, ful of…
Since I from Love escaped am so f… I ne’er think to be in his prison… Since I am free, I count him not… He may answer, and saye this and t… I do no force, I speak right as I…