| | And of my wyf the passing cruelte | |
| | Were I vnbounde also mot I the | |
| 15 | I wolde neuer efte come in the snare | |
| | We weddid men lyue in sorow and care | |
| | A say who so wol and he shal fynde | |
| | That y say soth be saint Thomas of Inde | |
| | As for the more part I say not al | |
| 20 | God shilde that it sholde so be fal | |
| | A good sir oost I haue weddid be | |
| | Thyse monethis two and nomore parde | |
| | And yet I trow he that hath al his lif | |
| | Weddid be though men wolde hym Ryf | |
| 25 | Into the herte ne coude in no maner where | |
| | Telle so muche sorow as I now here | |
| | Coude telle of my wyues cursidnes | |
| | Now quod our oste marchaunt so god you blisse | |
| | Syn ye so mykil konne of that art | |
| 30 | Ful hertely I pray you tel vs part | |
| | Gladly quod he but of myn owen sore | |
| | For sory herte I telle may nomore | |
| | ¶ Here endith the prolog . | |
| | ¶ And begynneth the Marchauntis tale . | |
| | S | Om tyme ther was duellynge in lumbardye | |
| | A worthy knyght that born was at pauy | |
| | In whiche he liuyd in gret prosperyte | |
| | And lx . yeer a wyflees man was he | |
| 5 | And folowyd his bodily delyt | |
| | On women was his hool appetyt | |
| | As doon thyse folis that ben seculer | |
