THE DURHAM PROLOGUE


01     Pes, lordyngs, I prai 3ow pes,
02     And of 3our noys 3e stynt and ses,
03     Oure gamen to lett ne cry in pres
04     For 3our courtasy.
05     žat we 3ow play it is no les,
06     Godmen, sikirly.

07     Oure myrth we make of a knyght
08     žat in his tyme was bold and wyght,
09     Rich of rent, man mekill of myght,
10     Proper and aupert.
11     Swilk hap gan fall pat on him light
12     žat put him to pouert.

13     žan he sight full wondre sore,
14     žat so rich had ben before,
15     And had nothyng to leue on more;
16     His hert was full of grefe.
17     že fende apierd vntill him žor
18     As man at his myschiefe.

19     He saide, "Man, lat be ži drede,
20     žou leue on me and my lede
21     And žou sall haue all pat že nede
22     Vntill ži lyues ende."
23     Bot sikirly, als we cone rede,
24     Of Mary milde žan was his mende.

25     Mary had of him pité,
26     And till hir son scho knelid on kne,
27     Sayd, "Son, 3on body gif me.
28     I chalange be right."
29     žus fro že fendes pousté
30     Boured scho že knyght.

31     Me nedis 3ow no more to tell
32     O žis thing how it befell;
33     Bot 3e sall her, and 3e will dwell,
34     How žat it sall be plaied.
35     He kep 3ow all žat herid hell,
36     And sithen vp staied.