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The Norman Blake Editions of The Canterbury Tales icon

The Norman Blake Editions of The Canterbury Tales

201 results from this resource . Displaying 161 to 180

grettest , gentil man Crist wol we clayme of h#299; , oure gentilnesse Nought of oure eldres , for here old richesse For though they ȝeue vs , al here heritage For which we cleyme , to be of hey

they wolde abyde And this was , as thise bookes me remembre The colde frosty sesou of decembre Phebus wax old , and hewed lyk latou That in his hoote declynaciou Shoon as the burned gold , with stremes brighte

so bifel , that ones on a day This Somnour , euere waityng on his pray For to somne an old wydwe a Ribibe Feynynge a cause , for he wolde brybe Happed , that he saugh bifore hym ryde

what out of towne This Somonour , to his brother gan to rowne Brother quod he , heere woneth an old rebekke That hadde almoost as lief to lese hir nekke As for to yeue , a peny of hir

Seinte Anne As I , wol bere awey thy newe panne For dette , which that thou owest me of old Whan þt thou madest , thyn housbonde cokewold I payde at hoom , for thy correccioū Thou lixt quod

was keper of the Celle The reule of Seint Maure , or of Seint Beneit By cause that it was old , and som del streit This ilke Monk , leet olde thynges pace And heeld , after the newe

his harnays With nayles yelewe , and brighte as any gold He hadde a Beres skyn , colblak , for old His longe heer , was kembd , bihynde his bak As any Rauenes fethere , it shoon for blak

bodyes yet to nyght Ne se ye nat this honurable knyght By cause allas , that he is blynd and old His owene man , shal make hym Cokewold Lo heere he sit , the Lechour in the tree Now

hir narwe in cage For she was yong and wylde , and he was old And demed hym self been lik , a Cokewold He knew nat Catoū , for his wit was rude That bad , man sholde wedde

tonge If Cow , or Calf or Sheepe , or Oxe swelle Or any wōman , be she yong or old Which that by bulle , ygraunted was to me Swich folk shal haue no power ne no grace That

al the peple sleeth For dronke , as he sat on his bench vp right He was pardee , an old felawe of youres What cors is this , þt passeth heer forby Seuene is my chaunce , and thyn

I yeue yow reed But he trespasse , in word , or elles in dede To speken , to an old man vileynye For which , ful pale , and welked is my face But yet to me , she

it oghte ynough suffise Fyue houres for to slepe , vp on a nyght But it were , for an old apalled wight As been thise wedded men , þt lye and dare As in a fourme , sit a

chidyng wyues , maken men to flee Out of hir owene houses , a benedicitee What eyleth , swich an old man for to chide Thow seyst þt we wyues , wol oure vices hide Til we be fast and

noon Thus semede it to euery manys syȝt Now thāne cōclude I thus as ȝif I myght At orlyonys sū old felaue I fynde That hadde these monys mācioūnys in mynde Or othere Magyk naturel a boue He schulde weel

there they wele vnbyde And this was as the bokys me remēbre The colde frosty sesoū of desembre Phebz wex old hewid lyk latoū That in his hoote declynacioū Schon as the burnet gold with streemys bryȝte But now in

þey comȳ sūwhat out of toūne This somenour to his broþer gan to roūne Broþer quod he here wonyth an old rebekke That hadde almost as lef to lese his nekke As for to ȝeue a peny of hire good

Vp on this mā by mȳ saluacioū I trowe lewedely he wolde telle his tale For were it wȳ or old , or moysti ale That he hath drōkȳ he spekyth in his nose And sneseth faste ek he hath

hire As meke as euere was ony lamb to ȝow And with that word a noon there gā apeere An old man clad in white clothis cleere That hadde a bok with lettere of gold in hōde And gan byforn

to his neghebour in body or in catel . ,, Of Ire comith these stynkende gendruris ffyrst hate that is old wrathe , Discord thurh whyche a man for sakith his olde frend , that he hath louyd ful longe

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"Results" Manuscripts Online (www.manuscriptsonline.org, version 1.0, 28 March 2024), https://www.manuscriptsonline.org/search/results?kw=old%20english%20hexateuch&sr=ct&st=160