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…

Flee from the press, and dwell wit… Suffice thee thy good, though it b… For hoard hath hate, and climbing… Press hath envy, and weal is blent… Savour no more than thee behove sh…

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…

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…

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 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…

The firste stock-father of gentlen… What man desireth gentle for to be… Must follow his trace, and all his… Virtue to love, and vices for to f… For unto virtue longeth dignity,

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…

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,…

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…

Your two great eyes will slay me s… Their beauty shakes me who was onc… Straight through my heart the woun… Only your word will heal the injur… To my hurt heart, while yet the wo…

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…

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…

Pite, that I have sought so yore… With herte soore and ful of besy p… That in this world was never wight… Withoute deth—and yf I shal not f… My purpos was to Pite to compleyn…

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…