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    Chaucer's Tale of Sir Thopas - Page 2

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    as is the bramble flow'r
    That beareth the red heep.* *hip

    And so it fell upon a day,
    For sooth as I you telle may,
    Sir Thopas would out ride;
    He worth* upon his steede gray, *mounted
    And in his hand a launcegay,* *spear
    A long sword by his side.

    He pricked through a fair forest,
    Wherein is many a wilde beast,
    Yea, bothe buck and hare;
    And as he pricked north and east,
    I tell it you, him had almest *almost
    Betid* a sorry care. *befallen

    There sprange herbes great and small,
    The liquorice and the setewall,* *valerian
    And many a clove-gilofre,
    And nutemeg to put in ale,
    Whether it be moist* or stale, *new
    Or for to lay in coffer.

    The birdes sang, it is no nay,
    The sperhawk* and the popinjay,** *sparrowhawk **parrot
    That joy it was to hear;
    The throstle-cock made eke his lay,
    The woode-dove upon the spray
    She sang full loud and clear.

    Sir Thopas fell in love-longing
    All when he heard the throstle sing,
    And *prick'd as he were wood;* *rode as if he
    His faire steed in his pricking were mad*
    So sweated, that men might him wring,
    His sides were all blood.

    Sir Thopas eke so weary was
    For pricking on the softe grass,
    So fierce was his corage,* *inclination, spirit
    That down he laid him in that place,
    To make his steed some solace,
    And gave him good forage.

    "Ah, Saint Mary, ben'dicite,
    What aileth thilke* love at me *this
    To binde me so sore?
    Me dreamed all this night, pardie,
    An elf-queen shall my leman* be, *mistress
    And sleep under my gore.* *shirt

    An elf-queen will I love, y-wis,* *assuredly
    For in this world no woman is
    Worthy to be my make* *mate
    In town;
    All other women I forsake,
    And to an elf-queen I me take
    By dale and eke by down."

    Into his saddle he clomb anon,
    And pricked over stile and stone
    An elf-queen for to spy,
    Till he so long had ridden and gone,
    That he found in a privy wonne* *haunt
    The country of Faery,
    So wild;
    For in that country was there none
    That to him durste ride or gon,
    Neither wife nor child.

    Till that there came a great giaunt,
    His name was Sir Oliphaunt,
    A perilous man of deed;

    He saide, "Child,* by Termagaunt, *young man
    *But if* thou prick out of mine haunt, *unless
    Anon I slay thy steed
    With mace.
    Here is the Queen of Faery,
    With harp, and pipe, and symphony,
    Dwelling in this place."

    The Child said, "All so may I the,* *thrive
    To-morrow will I meete thee,
    When I have mine armor;
    And yet I hope, *par ma fay,* *by my faith*
    That thou shalt with this launcegay
    Abyen* it full sore; *suffer for
    Thy maw* *belly
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