| |
| | T | His worthy clerk whan endid was his tale | |
| | Our oste sayde and swoor be cockis bonys | |
| | Me were leuer than a barel of ale | |
| | My wyf hadde herd this legende onys | |
| 5 | This is a gentil tale for the nonys | |
| | As to my purpos wyste ye my wil | |
| | But thing that wil not be let it be styll | |
| | Here endith the tale of the clerk of Oxenforde | |
| | And begynneth the Frankeleynes prolog . | |
| | T | Hese olde gentil britons in her dayes | |
| | Of diuers auctours maden her layes | |
| | Rymed first in her owen briton tunge | |
| | Suche layes with her instrumentis they sunge | |
| 5 | Or ellis reddyn hem for her plesaunce | |
| | And on of hem haue I in remembraunce | |
| | Whiche I shal say with as good wil as I can | |
| | Bert sires be cause I am a borel man | |
| 10 | Haue me excusid of my rude speche | |
| | I lernyd neuer rethorik in certayn | |
| | Thing that I speke muste be bare and pleyn | |
| | I slepte neuer in the mount of pernaso | |
| | Ne lerned Marcus Tullius ne Cithero | |
| 15 | Colowris knowe I noon withouten drede | |
| | But suche colouris as growen in the mede | |
| | Or ellis suche as men dien or peynte | |
| | Colours of rethorik be to me queynte | |
| | My spirit felith in no suche matere | |
| 20 | But and ye list my tale shul ye here | |
