FLY from the press, and dwell wit… Suffice unto thy good, though it b… For hoard hath hate, and climbing… Preise hath envie, and weal is ble… Savor no more than thee behoven sh…

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...

‘Weeping and wailing, care and oth… I have enough, on even and on morr… Quoth the Merchant, 'and so have… That wedded be; I trow* that it b… For well I wot it fareth so by me…

O Yonge fresshe folkes, he or she… In which that love up groweth with… Repeyreth hoom from worldly vanite… And of your herte up-casteth the v… To thilke god that after his image

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…

And so bifel, whan comen was the t… Of Aperil, whan clothed is the me… With newe grene, of lusty Veer th… And swote smellen floures white an… In sondry wises shewed, as I rede…

HYD, Absolon, thy gilte tresses… Ester, ley thou thy meknesse al a-… Hyd, Jonathas, al thy frendly man… Penalopee, and Marcia Catoun, Mak of your wyfhod no comparisoun;

A. Almighty and all-merciable Queen, To whom all this world fleeth for… To have release of sin, of sorrow,… Glorious Virgin! of all flowers f…

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…

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…

I. 1. Youre two eyn will sle me sodenly I may the beaute of them not suste… So wendeth it thorowout my herte k… And but your words will helen hast…

In Oxford there once lived a rich… Who had some guest rooms that he r… And carpentry was this old fellow’… A poor young scholar boarded who h… His studies in the liberal arts, b…

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,…

Madame, ye ben of al beaute shryne As fer as cercled is the mapamound… For as the cristal glorious ye shy… And lyke ruby ben your chekes roun… Therwith ye ben so mery and so joc…

Proverbe of Chaucer What shul these clothes thus manyf… Lo this hote somers day? After grete hete cometh cold; No man caste his pilche away.