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frere To preche and eek to begge it is no doute In which þer wente a lymytour aboute , A mersshy countre called holdernesse LOrdynges þer is in york schire , as I gesse Here begynneþ þe Somnours tale ,
losengeour That plesen yow more bi my feith Than he that sothfastnesse vnto yow seith Redeth Ecclesiastre of flaterye Beth war ye lordes of hir treccherie This chauntecleer stood hie vpon his toos Strecchyng his nekke and heelde his eyen
sche sterte Sche was so full of torment and of Rage Whan þat hire housbonde hadde lost his lyff Ful lowder þen dede hasdrubaldes wyff But soueraynly dame Pertelote schright Whan þey hadde seye of chaunteclere þe sight As maden
, be my feith Than he that soothfastnesse , vn to ȝow seith Redeth Ecclesiast , of flaterie Beth war ȝe lordes , of here trecherie This Chauntecler stod hye , vp oon his toos Strecchynge his nekke , helde
sayn of Chauntecler þe sight Nought soueraignly dam pertelote schright Ful lowder þan did hasdrubaldes wyf Whan þat hir housebond had lost his lyf And þat þe Romayns had I brent Cartage Sche was so ful of torment and of
fro the bemes Allas , his wif , ne roghte nat of dremes And on a friday , fil al this meschaūce O Venus , þt art goddesse of plesaūce Syn þt thy seruant was this Chauntecler And in thy
of torment and of rage That wilfully , in to the fyr she sterte And brende hir seluen , with a stedefast herte O woful hennes , right so criden ye As whan that Nero , brende the Citee
hȳ for to lese his benefice But certeyn there ne is no cōperisoū By twixe the wisdom discrecioū Of ȝoure fadyr of his subtiletee Now syngith sere for seynte charite Lat se cūne ȝe ȝoure fadyr countyrfete This chaūtecleer hise
hadd seye of Chaunteclere þe siht Botte souereignely dame Pertelot schriht Ful ludde þan dide Esdrubaldes wif Whan þat hir husbonde hadde lost hir lif And þat þe Romeynes hadde bernt Cartage Sche was so ful of tourment of rage