OUR Hoste gan to swear as he were wood; 'Harow! ' quoth he, 'by nailes and by blood, <1> This was a cursed thief, a false justice. As shameful death as hearte can devise Come to these judges and their advoca’s. * *advocates, counsellors Algate* this sely** maid is slain, alas!
*nevertheless **innocent Alas! too deare bought she her beauty. Wherefore I say, that all day man may see That giftes of fortune and of nature Be cause of death to many a creature. Her beauty was her death, I dare well sayn; Alas! so piteously as she was slain.
[Of bothe giftes, that I speak of now Men have full often more harm than prow,*] *profit But truely, mine owen master dear, This was a piteous tale for to hear; But natheless, pass over; ’tis *no force.
* *no matter* I pray to God to save thy gentle corse,* *body And eke thine urinals, and thy jordans, Thine Hippocras, and eke thy Galliens, <2> And every boist* full of thy lectuary, *box <3> God bless them, and our lady Sainte Mary.
So may I the’,* thou art a proper man, *thrive And like a prelate, by Saint Ronian; Said I not well? Can I not speak *in term?
* *in set form* But well I wot thou dost* mine heart to erme,** *makest **grieve<4> That I have almost caught a cardiacle:* *heartache <5> By corpus Domini <6>, but* I have triacle,** *unless **a remedy Or else a draught of moist and corny <7> ale, Or but* I hear anon a merry tale, *unless Mine heart is brost* for pity of this maid.
*burst, broken Thou *bel ami,* thou Pardoner,' he said, *good friend* 'Tell us some mirth of japes* right anon. ' *jokes 'It shall be done,' quoth he, 'by Saint Ronion. But first,'