The Canterbury tales
Geoffrey Chaucer
F.N. Robinson

Fitt II

Now holde youre mouth, par charitee,
     891
Bothe knyght and lady free,
     892
And herkneth to my spelle;
     893
Of bataille and of chivalry,
     894
And of ladyes love-drury
     895
Anon I wol yow telle.
     896
Men speken of romances of prys,
     897
Of horn child and of ypotys,
     898
Of beves and sir gy,
     899
Of sir lybeux and pleyndamour, --
     900
But sir thopas, he bereth the flour
     901
Of roial chivalry!
     902
His goode steede al he bistrood,
     903
And forth upon his wey he glood
     904
As sparcle out of the bronde;
     905
Upon his creest he bar a tour,
     906
And therinne stiked a lilie flour, --
     907
God shilde his cors for shonde!
     908
And for he was a knyght auntrous,
     909
He nolde slepen in noon hous,
     910
But liggen in his hoode;
     911
His brighte helm was his wonger,
     912
And by hym baiteth his dextrer
     913
Of herbes fyne and goode.
     914
Hymself drank water of the well,
     915
As dide the knyght sire percyvell
     916
So worthy under wede,
     917
Til on a day --
     918