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Page 54 - And of reches grete plente; I had a ful fayre seignory, And al I lost for my foly. Mi maste sorow als sal pou here; I lost a lady bat was me dere.
Page 8 - Was the wede that he went yn. "When he me sagh, he stode upright. I frayned him if he wolde fight, For tharto was I in gude will, Bot als a beste than stode he still. 275 I hopid that he no wittes kowth, No reson forto speke with mowth. To him I spak ful hardily And said, 'What ertow, belamy?
Page 22 - A lady folowd, white so mylk: In al bat land was none swilk. 820 Sho wrang hir fingers — out brast be blode; For mekyl wa sho was nere wode.
Page 97 - Luf was so in his hert fest, Night ne day haved he no rest, Bot he get grace of his lady, He most go wode or for luf dy. 3835 Ful preveli forth gan he wende Out of the court fra ilka frende. He rides right unto the well, And thare he thinkes forto dwell.
Page 1 - And mani mo, if men wil luke, Of al knightes he bare the pryse. In werld was none so war ne wise. Trew he was in alkyn thing.
Page xlix - ... et ce fu provance veraie qu'ancor estoit leanz, sanz faille, cil qui ot feite la bataille et qui l'avoit mort et conquis. Lors ont par tot...
Page 11 - Mo than owther nyen or ten. Sone than saw i cum a knyght, In riche armurs was he dight, And sone when i gan on him loke, Mi shelde and sper to me i toke ; That knight to me hied ful fast, And kene wordes out gan he cast ; He bad that i sold tel him tite Whi i did him swilk despite, 410 With weders wakend him of rest, And done him wrang in his forest ; Tharfore...
Page 68 - And parfore wald he noght be knawen Both for hir ese and for his awyn. He said : 'No lenger dwel I ne may ; Beleves wele and haves goday. 2675 I prai to Crist, hevyn kyng, Lady, len gow gude lifing And len grace, pat al gowre anoy May turn gow unto mykel joy'. Sho said : 'God grant. bat it so be'. 2680 Vnto himself pan pus said he: 'l>ou ert pe lok and kay also Of al my wele and al my wo'.
Page 13 - And ban als smertly sayd Syr Kay; He karpet to bam wordes grete: "It es sene, now es efter mete: Mare boste es in a pot of wyne pan in a karcas of Saynt Martyne.